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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510050">An Offer of Salvation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameSera/pseuds/MadameSera'>MadameSera</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Bull's Chargers, Dark, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Like quite a lot of plot, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Well of Sorrows (Dragon Age)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 12:21:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>82,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameSera/pseuds/MadameSera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh? Are we friends now?” </p><p>Celia, despite Leliana’s teasing tone, did not smile. “I’d like to think so.” Pale blue eyes met and held hazel ones and Leliana felt herself soften slightly. Friends. What an odd concept that was to her these days. She had so few that those she possessed she deeply cherished. Josie and Cassandra were the only ones she had left now. Justinia, Wynne, Tug, Sketch... all gone. </p><p> “Very well... Celia.” She acknowledged with a bow of her head and a slight smile.  </p><p>Or Leliana realises the Inquisitor isn't coping as well as she says she is. This is the story of realising that love never announces when it will arrive, and never announces when it will leave. Better then to grasp it with both hands, as you never know what you might miss.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra Pentaghast &amp; Female Trevelyan, Dorian Pavus &amp; Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Trevelyan (Dragon Age)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Quiet Moment of Solitude.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. </p><p>This is a story that I've been working on for the better half of a year and something I'm honestly quite proud of :) I already have several chapters written but I still have a way to go. I cannot guarentee when this will be finished, only that it will be. </p><p>I was going to hold off until I had completed it in its entirety before posting, but I simply couldn't resist. </p><p>Enjoy x</p><p>P.S. Just a quick head's up, I made this story slightly different in that my Inquisitor sides with the mages but Calpernia still around. I simply find her character to be more interesting.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been many a moon since Leliana had joined in the Chantry’s sermons, but she still somehow found herself drawn to the raised voices and echoes of song. The haunting melodies and laments from the people of Skyhold stirred something in her that she hadn’t felt since before the explosion of the Conclave. They could not match the practiced and perfected voices of the choirs of the Val Royeaux Cathedral, but there was something humbling and moving about the raw, passionate voices of the Keep’s everyday workers and their modest faith. The people of the Inquisition celebrated their most recent victory at Adamant Fortress, whilst simultaneously grieving for their fallen soldiers. The casualties could have been worse, for they fought not just experienced Grey Wardens, but also faced off against mages who summoned demons which did not tire. Cullen, Cassandra, and their military generals had prepared their soldiers well, however.</p><p>But soldiers were not infallible, and neither were her agents. The spymaster had had to share the news of the death of two of her own to the others currently housed at Skyhold only two nights past. Scouts Fixer and Badger had been with her since Haven. They had failed to report back in the days preceding the siege at Adamant. Their bodies, alongside the body of dozens of Warden warriors, had been found in a pit, their throats slit, clearly sacrificed by the Warden mages in order to summon more demons. Their loss was unfortunate, but she took comfort in the fact that her people received the news bravely. They knew now, more than ever, the risks and stakes in the deadly dance they took part in. Only her people would mourn their loss, but the weight of their fates hung on the former Left Hand’s shoulders all the same. Why hadn’t she sent agents more experienced, such as Harding or Charter? Her lead scouts were carrying out their own important duties, but maybe she could have called them back? Would Badger and Fixer have lived if she had instructed them to merely observe the Wardens from a distance, instead of trying to assess the weaknesses of the Fortress, a task which had required them to get close to the walls, and therefore closer to enemy detection. But as usual, no answers presented themselves to her and the Maker remained silent in His far distant throne.</p><p>Feeling for the first time caged in her Rookery, she left her tower and headed towards the garden, slinking past the diligently working Tranquil mages on the library level below. As she passed through the great hall, she could hear the tell-tale sounds of tired workers heading back towards their quarters or heading for the tavern – Maryden already striking up a jaunty tune to lift spirits and encourage the flow of drinks. Cabot was sure to be busy tonight.</p><p>The garden, per request of the Inquisitor, had been turned into an alchemist and florist's dream. Flower beds in a multitude of colours, purples, blues, yellows, reds, and pinks. Elfroot, Prophet’s Laurel, Felandris and Crystal Grace bloomed aplenty, keeping the apothecary and their healers well supplied.</p><p>She had just settled on a shaded bench when she heard whispers of a quiet prayer come from the little secluded room to her right. Leliana had yet to visit the tiny chantry, preferring her solitary prayer shrine in her quarters. She may carry the title of ‘Sister’, but her faith had been far from certain these last several months - years really, if she was to be honest with herself.</p><p>Listening for a moment, she let her curiosity carry her forward. Silent, despite her chain-linked bodice and grieved feet, she slunk forward and raised a thin eyebrow in interest. There, kneeling before the mournful statue of the Maker’s bride, knelt the Herald of Andraste herself. The Inquisitor had her head bowed to her chest, palms facing upwards on her thighs, with her typically braided blonde hair falling down her back like a curtain which hid her aristocratic features. The leather ensemble that she typically ran around Skyhold in had also been abandoned, in favour of a thin white cotton shirt and plain breeches. Leliana was sure that this was the most vulnerable she had ever seen the lady Herald. For a moment, she contemplated chastising her, as even the most incompetent assassin would make easy pickings of the Inquisition’s leader, whose clothes did little to protect her from the draughty keep, never mind an assassin’s blade.</p><p>Then again, they’d have to have got past her and all her safety precautions and that in itself would be a task even the most skilled would hesitate before accepting. It was a benefit to the Inquisition that the Crow’s had already agreed that the Herald was off-limits; they were assassins, not fools. They needed the rifts closed just as much as everyone else did for coin to flow once again. Never mind <em>morality</em>, this was business.</p><p>Lady Celia Trevelyan took a deep breath, her lungs expanded, and her shoulders straightened.</p><p>“Let the blade pass through the flesh,</p><p>Let my blood touch the ground</p><p>Let my cries touch their hearts</p><p>Let mine be the last sacrifice.”</p><p>The spymaster’s expression deepened. She had not once seen any sign that the Inquisitor shared her faith. Of course, every piece of intelligence that she had accumulated about the Herald’s past told her that she had been raised by a deeply conservative Andrastian family, but that could be said for nearly every noble family south of Tevinter. The Trevelyan’s were devout, of that there were no question. They were so large a family that they rivalled the Pentaghasts with how far spread they were and how far back they could trace their lineage. It would be remarkable if they <em>weren’t</em> avid Andrastians, considering how many Templars and Clerics shared the name of their Inquisitor.</p><p>Yet despite this, Celia Trevelyan had taken every opportunity to express her doubt over supposedly being saved by Andraste from the Fade; on numerous occasions, Leliana had read reports from her agents that in Trevelyan’s dealings with the chantry, she expressed distaste with its current state and past failures. Even when in Skyhold, her agents reported that not once had they witnessed the Inquisitor join a chantry sermon or so much as whisper a prayer.</p><p>Maybe that had all been a farce?</p><p>No, that didn’t ring true to the former bard. The young noble was nothing if not honest – even to a fault. She possessed a silver tongue no doubt, she was nobly born and reared after all, able to make even the courts of Orlais dance to her tune, but the Herald had always favoured polite directness compared to her own preferred method of secret dealings and indirect conflicts. The lie would also be an illogical one for her to undertake in as well; especially during her earlier interactions with the fledgling Inquisition, whose founding members were part of the Chantry hierarchy, a fact which she would have been well aware of.</p><p>“Are you going to say something or are you simply going to stand there?” The Inquisitor straightened out from her slightly hunched over position but gave no indication of rising from the stone floor or turning to face her. Leliana walked slowly further into the room, until she stood directly behind the younger woman.</p><p>Her blue eyes rose to peer deep into the sculpted marble ones of Andraste and quietly replied, “This would be the last place I would expect someone to look for you. That was the intention, <em>non</em>?” Her gloved hands clasped the other behind her back.</p><p>The Herald huffed out a half laugh in response. “Yes, I suppose that was part of the intention. It’s quiet here...peaceful. It’s a good place to think, I reckon, at least it would be if I didn’t have the constant paranoia of another messenger from Josephine regarding Comte Blanche or Lady Esmerelda or Duchess Yvonne finding its way to my person. One can only discuss the virtues of Orlesian opera compared to Fereldan cabarets for so long before one wants to run away to Rivain.” Leliana smirked fully now, “Why, I would assume you would have argued after your own Aunt’s productions. They are well known, even in the Empire.”</p><p>“Aunt Lucille <em>is</em> known for her parties for a reason you know. She once attempted to hire nude Rivaini fortune tellers and dancers for the soiree she was hosting in honour of my second cousin’s promotion to Knight Commander of Ansburg’s Circle. However, the idea fell through once she discovered how low they charged for their services. She was scandalised! She didn’t want everyone to think she had suddenly become, perish the thought, cheap!” Trevelyan let a rather unladylike snort escape her. “No,” she quieted and clenched and unclenched her hands once, twice, thrice before continuing, “I came here to think. Recent events have reminded me that I made a promise to my mother that I would not let my siblings come to any harm. I failed, but I can at least ask for the Maker to spare my parents the loss of another child and that He watches over my siblings in whatever lies beyond in His kingdom.”</p><p>Leliana’s breath stilled. She cast her eyes away from those of the Holy Prophet’s to the young noble at her feet. “Your siblings.” It was all that she said, letting it hang between them.</p><p>“Edward, Benedict, Carlisle and Olivia. We were all at the Conclave. Edward, Benedict, and Carlisle were part of the Templar’s delegation and Olivia was with the mages. Olivia was only sixteen. Still just a girl really. She had no business being there, being as young as she was. I suppose the mages brought her along in some vague, desperate attempt to dissuade some of the Templars from attacking them if things went sour. The mages knew my brothers would be at that meeting – there was no way they wouldn’t be. I was there to get them to return home, but instead of a happy reunion, we got, well...”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>Silence hung between them like a death toll. Leliana knew all this of course. It was one of the first pieces of information that she had intended to exploit if Celia had not agreed to help the Inquisition. It was dark business, but what part of her work was not? They had <em>needed</em> Trevelyan. There was no way they could have let her leave as they had suggested she could. Cassandra may have objected, but it would not have changed the reality of the situation, nor Leliana’s intentions. She was not about to have let Justinia die for nothing and for their only means of closing the Breach to leave and potentially get herself killed by all manner of things out in the wild. Luckily for them, Celia agreed on her own merits to stay. Despite Leliana’s knowledge about the heirs of House Trevelyan, this was the first time that both of them had ever discussed such details. The Herald had decided to employ Josie’s delicate services in dealing with her remaining family back in the Free Marches, and every other conversation between the Spymaster and Inquisitor had been strictly business – Calpernia, the Chantry’s attempts to overthrow them and the odd passing comment over the War Table.</p><p>The spymaster tilted her head, letting her eyes trail along Celia’s spine, despite knowing that the answer would not change what happened, she asked, “Did you succeed? Did they agree to return with you?”</p><p>“No. I told Mother it would be futile. Carlisle maybe, he was always the most reasonable of my brothers, but Edward and Benedict? There was no chance that they would have agreed, even if I had begged on my knees. Magic is dangerous ... a poison that will tear this world apart. Magic only brings ill to all those who experience it.” Her voice flattened as if she was repeating a mantra long since memorised. “No. To them, Olivia was no longer their sister. She was merely a walking time bomb, who at any moment, would become an abomination. They would return home when all the mages had been brought to heel and the rebellion crushed, and not a moment before.”</p><p>“And yet you support mage freedom?” she questioned.</p><p>“Yes, I do. I grew up with Olivia. Her focus and willpower were monumental. Even before she was revealed as a mage, I have never met anyone with her focus. She applied herself to her studies like no one else. Her chances of becoming an abomination were as likely as me becoming the next Divine. I <em>saw</em> what the Circle did to her. She became afraid of every person with a sword at their hip. She no longer laughed or smiled – she was merely a husk. Devoid of all dreams and ambitions. She was not Tranquil, but the effect was frighteningly similar.”</p><p>Celia looked up at the statue, eyes beseeching Andraste to hear her. “I understand the Templars’ plight, Leliana. If I had not had Olivia as a sister, I too may have believed in the cause as much as my brothers did. But terrifying mages into believing that they are sinful and a mistake for existing is wrong. If you tell mages that they will falter, they will inevitably make a mistake that could be fatal. My brothers had already left for Templar training when Olivia’s magic surfaced. They were living their own lives and had their own duties. Olivia became an afterthought to them – but I saw it. Magic <em>can</em> be dangerous; I would be a fool to suggest otherwise after all we have seen. But mages can have a place in society, the Circles need not be prisons. If this stupid war should have taught us anything it’s that fear and ignorance are a dangerous concoction.”</p><p>Celia had hunched her shoulders slightly as she spoke, her tone become more frenzied and passionate, tensing like she was an animal caged before she suddenly slumped forward in seeming exhaustion and placed her bare palms directly onto the stone floor. “Not that it matters now. Olivia is dead and my foolish brothers perished along with their convictions...scattered in the wind.”</p><p>Leliana felt her own heart increase and her hands twisted together, the leather of her gloves pulled slightly. Her eyes seemed unable to move from the defeated figure at her feet, arrested by its majesty and vulnerability. Pushing her luck, she decided to prod further, unable to resist this chance for more information from their typically obtuse leader. “I’m surprised Edward was allowed to undergo Templar training, considering he was the heir apparent.”</p><p>“Ostwick’s Knight-Commander was an old friend of my fathers. As a favour, he allowed Edward to undergo training, without swearing him to any of the traditional oaths. It was not a popular decision with Mother, but there was nothing she could do once the decision was made. When the Templars took up arms, he followed them, despite my father’s wishes. Benedict then followed him and Carlisle not long after that. I wrote to them of the foolishness of their actions, but they did not heed me. And now... it was all for nothing. Just as I had told them it would be.”</p><p>Leliana’s mouth spoke before she could comprehend what she was saying, “There might still be order out of this chaos yet, Inquisitor. Your actions are shaping the world, no matter what others may have you believe. It <em>hasn’t</em> been for nothing.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to state these things, as her own thoughts about the future remained dubious at best. When...<em>if</em>...Corypheus was defeated, how would the world react to suddenly having their only common enemy defeated? The power vacuum would be immense and ripe for more slaughter if the history of Thedas was to be believed. What would become the Inquisition’s new purpose? Would Trevelyan hang onto the organisation as an agent for progress or would they become like the original Inquisition, the Seekers of Truth, twisted so far from their purpose that they had to be brought to heel forcefully before they caused even more harm?</p><p>How many more lives would still need to be spent to ensure a lasting peace?</p><p>“Does...does it ever get easier? Will the world ever let us be again?” Such an innocent, almost childlike question. Celia turned fully now, twisting herself so that she could look at her spymaster properly. There was a look in her hazel eyes, a desperation and plea to affirm her naïve hope. To reassure her of a truth that she needed to be real.</p><p>Leliana could not bring herself to lie.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>The light dimmed and a resignation came over her face – like Leliana had just sentenced her to an eternity of torment. The bard’s heart clenched painfully in her chest and she stepped forward until she was nearly beside Trevelyan’s hunched over figure.</p><p>“The world will never let you be again now Inquisitor.” She explained. “Your actions and judgements have passed mere story and will echo into legend. Your name will be called upon in battle and whispered in fevered prayers amongst dying men. You will become a figure who you won’t recognise years from now, where only the slightest pieces remain of your true character. You will never be simply human again – merely an incarnation of their hopes and dreams, a symbol of an age of violence and tyranny but someone who stepped into the light when all other lights had gone out or failed them.” Her voice was quiet, and words waxed from her lips like poetry.</p><p>It was true, Celia would never have a moments peace again. If she succeeded against Corypheus, then the kingdoms of Thedas would hound for her attention, jockeying for any favour they could get. She would be fought over and coveted like a prized possession to abate already fragile courts and even more fragile egos. The Herald would one day be able to walk down the bustling marketplaces of Val Royeaux and not once be recognised, as her reputation ensured she was larger than life. Leliana knew this as it had already begun.</p><p>The former bard had heard on more than one occasion her own agents praying for the Inquisitor’s blessing before a mission, not the Maker’s. If her own people, agents who were privy to the Inquisition’s secrets and who understood a fraction of the machinations orchestrated behind closed doors believed the Inquisitor to possess divine powers, then the ordinary citizens of Thedas were sure to believe such as well.</p><p>It was a belief that Leliana had encouraged the spread of – the ultimate protection for their fledging organisation against those who would seek to purge it. No, there was no going back for Celia Trevelyan. She belonged to Thedas now – whether she wished it or not. A type of ownership that Leliana had seen before.</p><p>“Is that what happened to you? After the Fifth Blight?”</p><p>Leliana inhaled sharply through her nose and brought her eyes back to the holy prophet. She debated whether to answer, before deciding that she lost little in divulging some of the details.</p><p>“Yes, my lady Inquisitor. That is what happened to me. I could walk through the Keep right now and not have a single person truly know who I am. It is what makes my position so invaluable to you. You asked me once why I did not join your party, my answer was not a lie, it <em>would</em> have blinded me, but it is also a method of keeping my identity shrouded. It is why I occupy an entire section of this Keep and yet not one servant understands its purpose or knows its conductor despite being in plain sight. To them, I am simply Sister Leliana, member of the Chantry and a keeper of the Faith – they do not see Leliana, Spymaster, Left Hand, Bard Master, and war veteran. My titles and actions are too large for a mere woman to inhabit.”</p><p>A pause, “Is that also what happened to the Warden?” Celia asked her question hesitantly, as if expecting a rebuke. The Warden and the Blight were topics that were avoided by every member of the inner circle, as if by a unanimous and unconscious decree. When the past was brought into discussion, it was brief, and either instigated by Leliana herself or used to shed light on a piece of information to place it in its wider social and political context for the Inquisitor. Celia had witnessed the unearthed tension between her Spymaster and Commander enough times to deduce some history there. She didn’t know precisely what it was – but her intuition told her that they disagreed not because of their polar personalities and politics, but due to something far deeper.</p><p>“The Warden...yes, I suppose, but not in the same manner as you or I. She died before the world could vie for her attention and twist her deeds into something that would assist their own agendas. Before her death she was reviled and distrusted by the people of Fereldan due to the lies spread by Loghain and his supporters. Her restoration of Anora to the throne and later her sacrifice at the Battle of Denerim sealed her fate as a hero of the people.” Leliana cast her mind back to that day, the fear, anger, and sheer <em>exhaustion</em> that had nearly buckled her knees and broke her resolve. The heartache that had only begun to heal with the assistance of Justinia, who, like her former lover, was now dead. “Ten years have passed but already things are beginning to be erased. History is so fickle, the erasure of one piece of information suddenly changes the wider picture.”</p><p>They sat in silence for a moment as Leliana’s mind played back those moments of the Battle of Denerim. The chaos, the smell and sounds of soldiers being cut down by Darkspawn which came from a never-ending hoard. The feel of the heat from the fires that burned as the creatures set fire to the buildings, determined to funnel out those who tried to hide in their homes. The way she had gripped her bow and fired arrow after arrow in a continuous motion but having to resort to her daggers when they had been depleted. It was chaos, madness, the ultimate test from her Maker.</p><p>And then it had been over. A pillar of ominous purple light had pierced into the black clouds above them before a shockwave followed, and the Darkspawn turned tail and ran, leaving the devastation behind them. Cries of victory had rung out and Leliana had fled to Fort Drakon, towards where her lover had ventured off accompanied by Wynne, Loghain and Shale. Leliana had been separated from them early in the battle but she longed to see her lover and embrace her and tell her love that they were finally free...except, the sight she stumbled upon was not that.</p><p>Wynne knelt on the ground holding the figure of the petite elven Warden to her chest as she desperately tried to revive her. The elder mage poured endless amount of magic into the woman who was so deserving of life, but no matter how much she called on her spirit to help her, Lyna refused to wake. The elven Warden’s armour had been all but melted into her delicate skin from dragon fire, and her usual raven locks were greyed with soot and ash.</p><p>Loghain and Shale stood nearby. The golem was as expressive as one could be when made of stone, feeling sorrow as much as she was capable of, and probably for the first time in her existence. The newly anointed Warden had wiped the blood from his face, leaning against a wall as he avoided looking at the woman who had spared his life. <em>He</em> who had caused so much suffering and so much pain to not only her lover, all Fereldans, still lived. The fury she knew she should have felt was unable to form as she felt her world shrinking into Lyna’s broken body. Grace, the typically joyful and playful mabari had lain her head on her mistresses' stomach and whined in pain and grief, snuffling her nose into a limp and unresponsive hand. Her Warden was gone. Gone as quickly as she had come into her life. Leliana had felt the Maker’s presence go cold, a once cherished child abandoned and alone in the void.</p><p>“The Warden…you loved her, didn’t you?” Leliana felt her eyes sting and fought to keep her posture relaxed and hands limp at her side. These types of questions she would typically have avoided, shutting down all talk of her personal life and yet… She wanted to share. She wanted to let this young woman who knelt before her know that life was cruel. That the Maker was not always kind. Happiness and love were fleeting, coming and going so quickly it was as if they had never existed at all. The only evidence of her ever having felt such things being the hollow emptiness and ache for the one person who she could no longer have.</p><p>“Yes…” she whispered. “We were in love. Despite all the chaos and the suffering, we were truly happy. She walked into my life, believed in me, and helped me more than she could ever have known. I was at my weakest; alone, in a country that I had fled to in order to escape a former life. My country by blood but not by culture. I was a simple lay sister, who spoke of the Maker’s love as others laughed and scorned me for my delusions. She believed me, wanted to help me, even though the God I spoke of was not her own. She was brave, honest, and true – a Warden not through choice, but a Warden who would accept the mantle that was given to her and who would make the choices others would not.” Her voice grew dim in her ears as her blue eyes closed. She could see her, right there before her. Thick raven locks twisted behind her ears in her Dalish braids, eyes the colour of the ocean and her vallaslin, honouring the goddess Andruil, twisting beneath and over her eyes and under her lip, dipping over her chin and onto her neck. She saw Lyna smile at her bashfully after she handed her a pair of small blue shoes that Leliana had eyed at the Denerim market earlier that day. The way she blushed when Leliana had complimented her hair and hugged her tightly for the first time. The way she trembled after their first kiss…</p><p>“And yet those qualities did not save her. Her selfishness and self-righteousness doomed her when she refused the aid of a woman who offered her a solution. Who refused to let another Warden die in her place, even though he was the sole reason that another Warden walked away and left them still numbering only three. I loved her, but she did not love me enough to ask another to do the task that would ensure her survival. It was that day I learned an important lesson Inquisitor. Love is a cruel tool used by the Maker to ensure we do His bidding. It is fickle and finite. He needed the Warden to end the Blight, and He needed me to help her. Yet when that purpose was fulfilled, He turned away once again, leaving His children fumbling in the dark, destroyed.”</p><p>The Spymaster clenched her teeth. She had not known of Morrigan’s ritual at the time. She knew that Morrigan could not be trusted yet had believed her sincere when she had called Lyna her sister. When Morrigan fled the night before the battle, the bard had seen it as confirmation that Morrigan was as she appeared, a snake. She had gained power, knowledge and her Mother’s grimoire. Her use for Lyna had disappeared and nothing remained to stop her from walking away. Alistair had already left them, unable to put aside his hatred towards Loghain, and then Morrigan disappeared. Her departure had not been unexpected, but Lyna had been desperately hurt by the move and this had hurt Leliana. She had cursed the apostate for hurting her beloved, particularly for doing so on the eve of battle.</p><p>But now she knew this to be false. It was only now, ten years later, that Leliana had learnt the truth of what happened that night. Morrigan had not left for those reasons at all – she had left because the woman whom she had come to see as family refused to save herself. Lyna would not see reason and commit to the ritual and the apostate refused to stay and witness her fall. The proposed ritual would not have even required Lyna’s involvement, but her honour would not allow it. The elf would not allow Morrigan, her soul-sister, to <em>whore</em> herself away to Loghain in the vain hope that Flemeth was right and the ritual would work. So Lyna had made her choice, sealing her fate and Leliana’s along with it.</p><p>Her eyes refocused again when she felt a slight hand hesitantly touch her gloved one. She met hazel green eyes which were clouded with concern.</p><p>“Leliana…”</p><p>Embarrassed and feeling too exposed for comfort, she smiled hollowly. “I apologise Inquisitor, I never meant for you to see me like this.” Leliana straightened her spine, attempted to remove her hand from Celia’s but failed. She already cursed herself for allowing the discussion to get so far, as here she was breaking at the seams before the very woman who needed her strong at this moment in time.</p><p>“Please, don’t apologise.” Celia’s voice wavered in quiet sincerity; the Marchers hands now clutched her own with assurance. “I should not have asked. What you have experienced would have broken even the stoutest of Chevaliers. The fact that you are here, intact and whole is a miracle in itself.”</p><p>She couldn’t stop herself, “Am I?”</p><p>“Are you what?”</p><p>“Whole.”</p><p>Their eyes peered into each other’s, trying to find the answer. Hazel eyes closed in grief for a moment before opening. A look was cast over the Spymaster’s hooded features, absorbing the pale, beautiful face that lay hidden beneath the symbol of her station and of her burden. The reply came slowly but was firm.</p><p>“I believe you could be.”</p><p>The answer was not what Leliana had expected. Breath caught in her throat and her mind whirled with how to reply. The proximity between them meant that she could see the single freckle that adorned the Herald’s right eyelid and smell the fresh lavender soap that was provided for the communal bathing areas beneath the Keep, in the hot springs. Finally, the redhead broke her hands free, stepped away from the Inquisitor and established a proper distance between them once more.</p><p>“That is not necessary Inquisitor. I require no platitudes or reassurances. I know who and what I am. All I meant to impart was that your fate is one well-trodden by those who came before you. You are not the first woman who has been called to a higher cause, and I am certain that you will not be the last.”</p><p>“I did not lie Leliana, and I do not offer mere platitudes either. You carry a heavy burden, one that I do not envy and one which I understand that you have carried for far longer than I am probably aware of. I jus-”</p><p>“Inquisitor, I do the duty which I must. Think no more of it. Instead, turn your attention to what is before you, and indeed, what lies before the Inquisition beyond our current crusade. The world waits for no one, and you must be ready for whatever lies ahead.” Celia looked at the older woman for a moment more, grieved at the barrier being erected but accepted it with no further comment. She instead turned away, facing the statue of Andraste once more.</p><p>The blonde thought over Leliana’s words. “What lies ahead? Beyond Corypheus? I honestly do not know. If we survive at all, everything will change. I imagine many of our soldiers will want to return home to their families, as they should. But I know that many of them will want to stay. I imagine Cullen and Cassandra will tell me that there is much good the soldiers could still do. Homes will need to be rebuilt. Roads and bridges restored. I also imagine that even if Corypheus is defeated, his allies won’t disappear completely. But how long would that be the case for? A year, two? We possess many resources; Josie will probably have a field day restoring and directing her contacts in ways to assist the clean-up. There are a hundred different directions we could go, and all of them open a thousand possibilities. And yet…”</p><p>Celia made her way to a wooden pew, settling her elbows on her thighs as she twisted her hands together in her lap. The weight of the world seemed to cling to her like an illness, which Leliana supposed was not too far from the truth. The sickly green light of the Anchor cast an eerie glow onto the Inquisitor's face. The shadows made Leliana focus on the heavy bags and slight gauntness of Celia’s cheeks for the first time. The Inquisitor looked exhausted, <em>ill</em> even. The mark crackled before remaining dormant once more and the Spymaster focused in on it again. She could not recall Celia ever having voiced any complaints about the anchor. The Herald had taken to keeping her hands covered in bandages or gloves at all times, maybe in an attempt to hide her most distinguishing feature, or perhaps she did so to hide the reality from herself. Leliana could not say.</p><p>It was first time the Spymaster was seeing the Anchor up close since Trevelyan had been their prisoner back in Haven. It was a garish slice, jagged and bleeding light, yet oddly beautiful – much like the Breach was. Yet, Leliana was not certain that this lack of complaint was due to any real absence of pain. Leliana was aware that Solas and the Inquisitor spent some time in each other’s company, discussing history and elvhen lore. Whether Solas was monitoring and treating Celia’s hand she did not know. The apostate had an uncanny ability to know when and where he was being watched, and so the agents who had been assigned to him had not been able to gather much of anything beyond what Solas did not already treat as public information. It made her equal parts uneasy and irritated.</p><p>“It will only be a matter of time before someone moves against the Inquisition after Corypheus. Whether that enemy will be the Tevinter Imperium, Orlais or even Ferelden remains to be seen. The Chantry will have its new Divine, whomever that may be, which may present several challenges. However, Inquisitor, if I can offer my advice?”</p><p>“Please. I could use all of the help I can get right about now.”</p><p>“I know from experience how hard it can be to lay down your blade and accept that things have changed. But once peace has been restored, the current workings and scope of the Inquisition will need to change. We can still work for the good of Thedas without commanding an army. You are going to have to decide, when the time comes, whether keeping the Inquisition as it currently stands presents an acceptable risk, even if the world desires to preserve us for the own devices.” Leliana sat beside Celia on the pew, crossing her legs beneath her seat and relaxed slightly into the grooved back of the bench.</p><p>“You know, Mother Giselle said something remarkably similar to me. She said that what impressed her about the original Inquisition was that when the fighting was over, they put down their swords, instead of attempting to persist.” Celia looked at her for a moment before resuming her focus on the floor.</p><p>The bard nodded. “Mother Giselle is very wise. She was always a voice of reason and her insight was why Justinia held her in such high regard. I believe that she sees, as I do, the failings that our organisation could very easily fall prey to. The Seekers, Grey Wardens and even the Chantry have fallen victim to history and corruption. What we have built is impressive, but eventually our standings will change and public opinion along with it. Perhaps Mother Giselle wishes the Inquisition to be remembered more favourably than the one that came before. As do I.”</p><p>Silence fell upon them for a while. The sun descended upon the horizon which caused the stain glass window of the small chantry to beam down its colourful lights. The dozens of candles in the room seemed to burn all the brighter for it. It was so quiet and still, it was easy to forget that they were currently situated in a bustling Keep.</p><p>“Do you think I made the right choice to banish the Grey Wardens as I did?” The question was unexpected. Leliana had not been asked by anyone for her thoughts regarding the Wardens’ banishment from Adamant Fortress and for her to be asked so now puzzled her. “Do you think you made the wrong choice?” she asked.</p><p>Celia looked at her, “Sometimes.” she admitted. “Sometimes I think that I was too quick to judge them. They were led astray by one who knew their weakness. They truly believed they were protecting the world by trying to stop the Archdemons before they arose to the surface. How can I judge them for wanting to protect people? But then I think about all those who were needlessly slaughtered.” The Herald was no doubt remembering the sights and sounds of the battle. Leliana had read the reports. She and the Commander had been just outside Adamants’ walls and so had heard the screams and desperate wails of the dying. Her experience of the battle had meant that she had had a comprehensive view of the battlefield, as she funnelled reports and assigned agents to help maintain their choke points on the field. The reports she had received confirmed that the Inquisitor had carved her way through many Wardens that day, many of those killed being mages hopelessly bound to Corypheus. She had had no choice but to kill them to reach Warden Commander Clarel.</p><p>Celia continued, “The Warden’s corruption was slow, but signs were there if one looked close enough. They went unchallenged for so long that I find I cannot muster enough sympathy for their down-fall. I’ve always believed that power does not corrupt, it merely reveals what was already there. For Clarel to have made the decisions she did, and for her to have gone unchallenged for so long, tells me that the Wardens’ fears had overtaken their senses. At least, that’s what I tell myself...”</p><p>The redhead bit her lip for a moment. “The call of the Grey Wardens has always been marred with such debate. They recruit and accept anyone, prince or commoner, innocent and criminal alike, and all serve for a cause that is not bound by crowns or borders. Their inner workings are so complicated that even I am not sure who truly directs them all.”</p><p>“But do you think I made the right call?” Celia pressed.</p><p>“... Yes, Inquisitor.” Celia gaped at her. Leliana smirked, “Does this surprise you?”</p><p>The ashen haired woman nodded, bemused, “Yes, it does actually.”</p><p>The spymaster folded her hands above her knee. “You should not be. Was it not I who told you to seek them out in the first place? Was it not me who advised you to seek out Blackwall and see what he knew about his disappearing brothers and sisters in arms? I spoke to Josie, Cullen and Cassandra about my suspicions, but I was ignored. When Hawke and Loghain came to Skyhold I too spoke with them. The information they provided and the intelligence you and your companions gathered from the Western Approach merely confirmed what I had already been piecing together.” Leliana always loved catching people off guard and Celia’s expression was delightfully confused. Mouth slightly open, eyebrows raised high on her brow and eyes slightly wider than usual.</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“But why was I suspicious in the first place?”</p><p>“Yes! You travelled with the Grey Wardens, if anyone should trust them to not mix themselves up in all of this, surely it would be you?”</p><p>“It is precisely <em>because</em> I travelled with Grey Wardens that I knew to be suspicious Herald. My lover and Alistair were noble, however over the span of our journeying together, I saw enough to make me question whether their supposed neutrality was in fact true. Their immunity provides them with ample protection from scrutiny and I saw what experiments were conducted in the name of their order. Blood magic, necromancy, executing innocents...” Leliana remembered Lyna telling her about her Joining, and would never forget the look of sorrow, hate and regret that Lyna had worn as she discussed the thief and warrior who did not survive her Joining. Duncan had given them no choice, and there was no turning back.</p><p>“A warden named Avernus used blood magic to extend his lifespan and conducted horrific experiments in an attempt to understand the darkspawn taint. Lyna killed him for his crimes, but I knew he could not be the first or the last to act in such a way.” The older woman’s face stilled and solidified into a stone mask. “After Lyna’s... passing, I kept a close eye on the order which had sentenced my lover to her death. She had been conscripted into the Wardens against her will and fought for them when she saw how escaping them was impossible. She carried out her duty to the end, but I will never forget that the Grey Wardens left two inexperienced recruits to face a Blight alone. Loghain turned Warden reinforcements away at the border, but that had never really stopped them in the past. They are the reason I met Lyna, but they are also the cause of her death.”</p><p>Celia reached her bare hand over and touched Leliana’s knee briefly in solidarity. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>She waved a hand. “It’s the past Inquisitor. Grey Wardens have always overstepped and placed little importance to the lives that serve their cause. I agree with you, power reveals and the Grey Wardens have had too much power for too long. Oversight is necessary to prevent complacency, which is what Clarel became. For what it’s worth, as the Order stands right now, accepting them into the Inquisition’s ranks would have created several problems which we now don’t have to worry about. Finding a way to use them whilst keeping them away from Corypheus’ influence would have been a logistical nightmare for Cullen. They present too much of a risk for us to have been assured of their competency and ability to serve the Inquisition well.”</p><p>“Do you not worry about what we’ll do when the next Blight comes?” Celia asked.</p><p>“From what I understand, a Blight is not coming and does not appear to be something we need to worry about anytime soon. Corypheus was very clever in mimicking the Call, but that’s all it was. A fake Calling. The Grey Wardens have from now until the next Blight to re-structure and re-evaluate their Order. If they disappear entirely, I have no doubt that secrets will eventually emerge of how they defeated archdemons in the past. I already have several spies placed among those travelling to Weisshaupt, whose orders are to uncover any secrets that lay hidden. I have no doubt I will be hearing from them in the coming weeks with success. We will be ready Inquisitor, with or without the Grey Wardens.”</p><p>Leliana felt the Inquisitor’s body relax beside her and could not help but feel glad that she had provided some measure of comfort. She had no idea that Celia had worried over such thoughts but then she was not the one who the Herald typically confided in. Dorian or Cassandra were the ones usually consulted when it came to the Inquisitor’s personal life. The Tevinter in particular, being very protective of his only friend. It warmed her in a way that she didn’t want to admit that her talents could provide reassurance, not just fear.</p><p>“Do you not know what causes Warden’s to be necessary to end the Blight?”</p><p>Leliana sighed. “<em>Non</em>. I am privy to many Grey Warden secrets but that one remains a mystery to me. Lyna would not say why she was necessary, and I only know that she did not take an opportunity provided to her to save herself from that fate. I have my suspicions but nothing concrete yet I’m afraid.”</p><p>“I imagine the Wardens were not happy to have someone outside their ranks know so much of their inner workings?” Celia raised her eyebrow.</p><p>Leliana laughed slightly. “They most certainly do not. I have no doubt caused them quite a headache over the years.” She was very obviously proud of such a fact if her smug tone was any indicator. “My position with the Divine ensured that I was well protected from any rogue assassin, and I could not mysteriously disappear without it being quickly known to those close to me. I have received the odd threat over the years, but they could not touch me. I cannot be forced to undertake the Joining and if they <em>tried</em> to conscript me, it would have caused them a political nightmare due to my connections to the Imperial Court and the Chantry hierarchy. I know too much for them to press the issue too much. I have many connections and the Wardens do not desire the kind of scrutiny I could unleash upon them.”</p><p>Leliana was not boasting. She had come close several times over the years to sending the ravens to the appropriate individuals with word of the Warden’s activities. Her word was her contract, and the words of Sister Nightingale, who also happened to be the known lover of the deceased Hero of Fereldan, carried more weight than she had often cared to use. She doubted she could have destroyed the Order, even she was not that arrogant, but she could have started many a political firestorm over their presence in several nations, not least of all Fereldan. It was often Justinia who stayed her hand, as those ravens usually were prepared in the days leading up to the anniversary of Lyna’s death.</p><p>“Well then, I suppose I should be glad that they possess some sense.” Leliana and Celia smirked and laughed with the other.</p><p>“<em>Oui</em>, though I have no doubt it would have been entertaining to have seen the look on the Senior Wardens’ faces when they realised exactly <em>who</em> they were threatening.” Leliana grinned slyly.</p><p>Suddenly, “You know, you <em>can</em> use my name.” Celia lip curled in a half smile. The spymaster merely raised an eyebrow in surprise. “It’s just, I have so many titles now that I sometimes miss the sound of it. I am ‘the Herald’, ‘Lady Trevelyan’ or ‘Inquisitor’ to so many people that it feels like no one sees Celia anymore. I hope that I am Celia to my friends, that you all see beyond the title I’ve assumed.”</p><p>“Oh? Are we friends now?”</p><p>Celia, despite Leliana’s teasing tone, did not smile. “I’d like to think so.” Pale blue eyes met and held hazel ones and Leliana felt herself soften slightly. Friends. What an odd concept that was to her these days. She had so few that those she possessed she deeply cherished. Josie and Cassandra were the only ones she had left now. Justinia, Lyna, Wynne, Tug, Sketch ... Maker, even Alistair, for all the faults that he possessed, was gone. The thought of any harm coming to the Seeker or Josephine sent a flutter of panic through her heart. She would not allow them to come to harm. She had sworn it.</p><p>“Very well... Celia.” She acknowledged with a bow of her head and a slight smile.</p><p>The blonde smiled widely at that, her dimples appeared for a moment and her eyes seemed to lighten with delight. The difference it made to her face was striking. She suddenly appeared to be her age, unburdened with the weight she often carried. She was beautiful and her aura of exhaustion lifted briefly.</p><p>“This is nice.” Celia said, still smiling.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>The Inquisitor turned to look at her, “Laughing, smiling. I don’t do much of that anymore. It feels like forever since I took a moment to breathe.” Her smile faded and hazel green eyes once more turned to the statue of Andraste. “There hasn’t been much reason for laughter lately. Especially since the mess at Adamant.”</p><p>Leliana stood from the pew, standing so she stood in front of the Inquisitor. “That is not surprising. This war has cost us much and it will continue to demand more from us until Corypheus is defeated for good.” The flames of the candles seemed to dim slightly as the sun fell slowly beyond the mountain tops in the valley.</p><p>Suddenly, “I am tired, Leliana,” The spymaster whipped her head down to look at Celia. The younger woman’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. Her cheeks flushed red with emotion and her hands trembled.</p><p>“So very tired. I have been fighting for over a year now and it already feels like it has been a lifetime. Every day I receive reports of rifts I cannot close as there are simply too many of them and not enough hours in the day to reach them all. Every day I get reports informing me of casualty numbers and requests for aid against one foe or another. I hold the power to destroy whole empires with my decisions and I am never sure whether my choices are the correct ones. I am just... so tired of it all.” The exhaustion had returned to the Herald’s features as she too stood from the pew. A stray tear fell from her cheek which she absentmindedly wiped away.</p><p>“I did not ask for this Inquisition, but I stayed because I believed I could help correct the things I thought were wrong in this world. I committed to this cause and remain committed to it. I just wonder by the end, what will be left of me that I am not required to give up?” Celia smiled a tragic, sad little thing at her, mouth barely lifting on the one corner. Leliana felt a dull thud in her chest where her heart was.</p><p>“I-”</p><p>But before anything more could be said, Celia looked away. Her face settled back into one of pleasant neutrality, the only sign of her previous distress her flushed cheeks which already were beginning to fade. The mask’s appearance was so swift, the redhead found it difficult to comprehend. It had dropped so fast, as if it were a routine. Unease settled in her stomach like a weight and she found her eyebrows furrowed in consternation.</p><p>“Leliana, thank you for talking with me, but would you mind if I had some time alone please? I wish to resume my prayers. I did not find any sign of my siblings when I journeyed into the Fade, but I wish to ask the Maker to protect them nonetheless.” Celia turned from her, resuming her place of obeisance on the floor once more.</p><p>The dismissal clear, Leliana could only nod reluctantly, fighting her desire to stay and demand more answers. “Of course, Celia.” She turned, quietly making her way to the door.</p><p>As she reached the doorway, Leliana stopped, “I shall leave you to your contemplations. But remember, the ‘last sacrifice’ does not begin and end with you.” Celia did not turn to see her leave.</p><p>Closing the door to the small chantry, Leliana heaved a breath, letting the air sit heavy there for a moment before she exhaled through her nose. What had just happened?</p><p>Moving back towards the Great Hall, she fought to rid her mind of youthful eyes, burdened and sinking in sorrow. As she rounded the corner, light footsteps hurried towards her. An agent, out of breath and cheeks flushed, halted before her. “Sister Nightingale, you’ll want to see this.” Fearing the worst, she accepted the report he handed her, scanning the words quickly.</p><p>“Has anyone else seen this?” she asked.</p><p>“No, my lady. Scout Pellane has sighted no further activity so far.”</p><p>“Good.” She felt a pang of regret knowing what had to come next, “Please inform the Inquisitor of this development. She’ll want to be notified immediately. You’ll find her in the chantry.” <em>‘It looks like there will be no moments rest for you, Celia. I’m sorry.’</em></p><p>“Yes, my lady, at once.” He saluted, turning on his heel.</p><p>Leliana closed her eyes, feeling her own mask slip into place. She’d had enough distractions tonight; it was time to return to work.</p><p>She walked away; the words of the report seared into her mind’s eye.</p><p>
  <em>Blackwall is gone.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Judgement Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thom Rainier has been exposed, and Celia must now give her judgement.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here is chapter 2! I had great fun writing this chapter and was definitely inspired by some earlier Game of Thrones seasons which definitely helped. </p><p>WARNING: I mention some pretty graphic depictions of child death/murder in this chapter, so if that is triggering please procede with caution.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of heavy chains dragging on the floor announced the presence of the prisoner well before their eyes caught sight of him. Whispers broke out and curious eyes befell the individual who had run afoul of their Inquisitor.  </p><p>Two Inquisition soldiers escorted him forward toward the dais on which Celia Trevelyan sat on her throne, back straight and eyes steady. She sat with all the countenance of a queen, garbed from head to toe in black. The dark ensemble gave the impression that she was attending a funeral rather than passing judgement. Her blonde hair had been drawn back into a low bun, not too dissimilar to Josephine’s, which only served to draw attention to the severity of her face and reinforce the intensity of her gaze, as her garb made her pale skin and hair appear all the more grave. She looked down upon the man whom she had once called friend with eyes that appeared to glint with barely restrained fury.  </p><p>Thom Rainier’s signature wild hair looked decidedly more unmanageable than usual, with it being obviously unwashed and greasy. His heavy frame diminished with each look of disgust he caught from his former allies. His usual full red cheeks now gaunt and pale from two weeks of imprisonment with little food and sun light. His appearance made him appear more bandit than warrior, remining Celia of the Avaar warriors she had defeated in the Fallow Mire. His stocky shoulders were rolled forward in their sockets, so he appeared little more than a hunch back. Muddied boots dragged slightly on the floor as he struggled not to stumble, his balance off-kilter due to his hands being bound together securely in front of his stomach.  </p><p>In total, he was the envision of a man burdened with guilt. A desperate wretch diminished from his former glory. Finally, he was stripped bare before the world, revealing the true man behind the identity he had hid behind for so long. A man riddled with self-loathing, so much so that he did not even attempt to meet her eyes as he was brought before her.  </p><p>His self-pity did little to soften her resolve.  </p><p>He was jerked to a halt and avoided looking at the lady Ambassador, choosing instead to focus on the design of the granite floor, as she stepped forward to announce the accused.  </p><p>“For judgement this day, Inquisitor, I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall... His crimes...” Josephine’s voice wavered as she sought to gather herself. “His crimes -” </p><p>“It’s alright Josephine. I can handle this one.” Celia said quietly, nodding her permission for Josephine to step down from her post.  </p><p>Josephine met her eyes with her own slightly misted ones and nodded gratefully, placed her quill back into its ink holder and bowed slightly as she stepped down from her place on the raised platform.  </p><p>Celia’s soft voice rang out across the Great Hall, as silence fell over the courtiers, workers and diplomats who had gathered to watch the proceeding. It felt like the entirety of Skyhold had come to gawk at the disgraced soldier. </p><p>“Captain Thom Rainier, you are charged with the murders of General Vincent Callier, Lady Lorette Callier, their four <em>children </em>and their retainers, all for the mere promise of coin from the now deceased Chevalier Ser Robert Chapuis. You are charged with assuming the identity of former Warden-Constable Gordon Blackwall, wilfully deceiving the Inquisition of your true identity, as well as deceiving the Grey Wardens, whom you failed to inform regarding Blackwall’s untimely death. Alongside this, you are charged with numerous evasions of capture by Orlesian Chevaliers, who acted upon the orders of the Empress Celene. Finally, you are charged with four counts of treason, due to interactions you had with Chapuis before the Callier massacre and your subsequent escape, in which you willingly assisted Chapuis in his attempts to unseat Empress Celene, to aid the traitor and now deceased Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. You willingly confessed this to me in writing and in person. Do you deny it?” </p><p>“No, I don’t deny it.” A pin drop could have been heard for how quiet it was.  </p><p>“You confess to these crimes?” </p><p>“I do.” He said.  </p><p>“Do you have anything to say in your defence?” </p><p>Rainier finally looked up. His brows were lowered, and his eyes appeared dark, too dark for her to see much of them, despite being as close to him as she was. Rainier shuffled on his feet, pulling at the rope on his wrists in agitation.  </p><p>“Why have you brought me here? I was ready to die in that prison in Val Royeaux. What good does this performance do?” </p><p>Celia folded her hands over the arms of her throne. “Empress Celene has graciously deferred to my judgement on this matter. Since you served in my Inquisition, and wronged me and my allies, the Empress felt it just to allow me to right the wrongs committed. As a token of her gratitude towards the exposure of Grand Duchess Florianne at Halamshiral, she permitted your removal and extradition into our custody. She most graciously has charged me with the responsibility of serving justice for the death of innocent <em>children </em>and a military general who served his Empress faithfully."Hazel eyes seemed to glow; her cold tone unable to mask her disgust. He could not match her gaze for long, flinching at the words she spat at him. Rainier was not a small man, but he appeared microscopic in the face of the Herald’s righteous anger.  </p><p>“Tell me Rainier, did you know that the oldest child of the Callier’s was <em>twelve</em><em>?” </em>He sucked in a breath.  </p><p>“No, Inquisitor. I didn’t know.” He mumbled lowly.  </p><p>“Did you ever bother to learn their names?” </p><p>“... No, Inquisitor.” He hadn’t. He had wanted to forget what had even happened, learning their names would not change what had happened, what he had ordered. He’d been there, had given the order and witnessed the carnage that followed. He- </p><p>“His name was Benoit. He was in the process of learning Antivan and the way of the sword. He hoped to one day become a chevalier, bringing honour to his family and commit himself to serving his Empress. His father had just granted him permission to attend the next Grand Tourney in the Free Marches, an event he had begged to be allowed to go witness.” </p><p>Rainier could say nothing, as a boy with chestnut brown hair and blank chocolate eyes flashed before his mind’s eye. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, unable to vanish the image of that boy’s slit throat, how small he had looked crumpled up on the carriage steps, as if he were some lady’s forgotten handkerchief.  </p><p>Celia did not stop. </p><p>“Did you also know that the youngest, Lorrie, was <em>three</em><em>? </em>Her birthday had been the week prior. She had recently recovered from a bout of illness which had left her mute and physically weakened. Her parents were overjoyed at her recovery and so arranged for a soiree to celebrate their youngest daughter’s survival. A gathering they failed to arrive at.” Celia could no longer appear indifferent as she leaned forward, her knuckles turned white under her gloves from how hard she gripped her throne. “She was not even able to scream as she watched men cut her entire family down.”</p><p>Cheeks flushed with anger, she felt the beginning of furious tears begin to well in her eyes and stubbornly kept them back. She would not cry. Crying would not serve her in this moment. Right now, she wanted to make <em>Rainier </em>understand the horror she had felt as she read the reports Celene and Briala had sent her.  </p><p>Pages and pages had been laid bare, detailing in excruciating detail the assault on the Calliers and confessions spoken by those who had been there and who had later been executed for their crimes.  </p><p>Benoit Callier could only watch as his father and loyal bannerman were cut down, unable to do anything as soldiers appeared from the woods at the roadside, masked and hooded, before they quickly proceeded to hack down the carriage door. He merely gasped when these brutish assailants turned to the young boy and attempted to grab him. Benoit had drawn the small practice sword his father had begun to allow him to wear at his hip and tried to defend his screaming mother and sisters. Without batting an eyelid, those men who were superior in strength and skill, overpowered his futile resistance and slit his throat from ear to ear. The wound had cut so deep, it had nearly severed his head from his neck.  </p><p>Madeline Callier, a girl of a mere eight years, <em>screamed </em>as she and her youngest sister Lorrie were also grabbed from the carriage, where their mother had fought desperately against her own captors to reach her children. Lady Lorette took a dagger through her  chest for her efforts. As she lay dying, choking to death on her blood, the last image she would see would be of Madeline and Lorrie stretching and crying for their <em>mama. </em>The two girls had been the last to perish, witnessing their final sibling, Ginette, herself eleven years old, run clean through with a broad sword as she attempted to flee from her captors’ grasp. Her blood had splattered on the carriage wheels as she slumped against them like a rag doll.  </p><p>Madeline had clawed and kicked at her captor, <em>Cyri</em><em>l </em><em>Mornay, </em>attempting to grab her sister where she was held aloft by another masked attacker. Mornay had grasped the young girl by her throat, squeezed and tightened his hold with every second. Finally, she fell limp, as if she was a marionette whose strings had suddenly been cut. Throat already beginning to bruise and lifeless eyes stared at her sister who silently whimpered and cried.  </p><p>Lorrie, frightened and petrified, had been taken to the roadside, where she proceeded to have her head bashed against the rocks. Her body had been so broken that the court coroner who oversaw the last funeral rites swore he would have been unable to identify the child if she had not been found with the rest of her family.  </p><p>It was <em>monstrous </em>and Celia had not been able to stomach food for the next two days after she had read it. Cole had sat with her, trying to ease her pain but not having much success. He kept humming the simple Orlesian children’s rhyme, a song Celia herself had known from her own mother, an Orlesian.  </p><p>“<em>Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see from the top of that hill? Can you see up? Can you see down? Can you see the dead things all about town?” </em> </p><p>When she had asked why that particular tune, he had simply said, “The children knew it.” A statement which had caused her no end of nightmares in the following days.  </p><p>The song echoed in her mind now, as loud as if it were being shouted in an empty room, “<em>Mockingbird, mockingbird...”  </em>She had visited Rainier only once when he had been brought to the cells of Skyhold, barely able to look at him. Cole had lingered close to her side, fiddling with a little wooden carving as he unearthed more details and expressed them in his typical manner. </p><p><em> “Too many voices in the carriage. Maker, </em><em>they’re</em><em> young. If I tell my men to stop, </em><em>they’ll </em><em>know it was all a lie. Cold, trapped, heart hammering like axes on a carriage door...”  </em> </p><p>She had stayed long enough to hear and sign his confession, fearing that she would put an arrow in his throat if she stayed much longer.  </p><p>Finally, Rainier broke. Heavy sobs ripped from his chest; fat tears streamed down his face before they disappeared into his beard. He fell to his knees before her, arms came up to press desperately to his chest. “I’m sorry. <em>I'm so sorry</em>.” </p><p>His cries carried out towards the crowd who had grown increasingly horrified as the grisly details were proclaimed. Titles of <em>traitor, </em><em>murderer, </em>and <em>monster </em>was muttered by the angry crowd, who buzzed like an angry hornets' nest. If looks could kill, then Rainier would be on his funeral pyre several times over already. Cassandra in particular glared at the man as if she would be all too willing to personally deliver him to the Maker. Her heavy brow furrowed, which caused a deep crease between her eyes and her lip curled in disgust as she watched the pitiful excuse of a warrior sob for forgiveness from the <em>wrong person</em>. She prayed to the Maker for His guidance, prayed  that he would forge her into an instrument of His will, a mantra she performed before the slaying of her enemies to centre herself. Never had she used it to pray for the punishment of a former friend. She had barely believed Celia when she had been informed of Blackwall’s crimes. He was a righteous and honourable warrior; a man she was glad to fight beside in battle. But he had never been those things. A man who truly aspired to be righteous would not lie, they would instead <em>earn </em>respect, not steal the respect due another. At that moment, Blackw- <em>Rainier, </em>ceased to be any different from the men who had restrained her as Anthony was killed in front of her. </p><p>“Your tears are several years too late, Rainier. The Calliers are with the Maker now, may they find peace with Him, as peace had been denied them by you.” Rainier continued to sob to himself, images flashed behind his eyes of a girl’s small doll clutched in a dirty hand on the roadside, <em>Lorrie. </em>Of a bloodstained pillow placed over the face of a girl whose original yellow petticoat soaked through with a deep shade of crimson. <em>Ginette. </em>He could not escape them.  </p><p>“I didn’t, I didn’t mean for it to happen-” </p><p>Celia nearly frothed with rage. “<em>You didn’t mean for it to </em><em>happen? </em> You <em>knew </em>they were in that carriage! You <em>knew </em>you could have called off the attack and let them pass! Instead, you chose to continue to lie to your men, soldiers who trusted their captain to honour their trust and commitment to you. You do not get to stand before me and say that you <em>didn’t mean for it to happen.”</em></p><p>Rainier struggled in his bonds furiously, eyes pleading with her. “Do your own men not follow you without question? I gave them orders and they followed them. They had seen war and they thought they were protecting their country! I didn’t know children would be there! All I was told was that General Callier would be travelling with soldiers, not his family! But it was too late by that point... My soldiers were loyal to me and I let them down. I know that! Do you think I need reminding?”  </p><p>The Inquisitor’s mark crackled through her black glove as green light shone from her palm in response to her anger. “My men? You <em>dare </em>to compare the soldiers of the Inquisition to your band of murderers? My soldiers follow clear chains of command. <em>Every </em>decision I make is one that is made for the safety of Thedas. Every decision is consulted with advisors and a verdict is reached that results in the least amount of civilian and Inquisition casualties - in that order.  My soldiers are not mindless thugs who murder children and their parents for coin! They understand that wars are ugly, but they carry out their duties with the moral integrity that <em>you could never dream to possess.”  </em> </p><p>The soldiers who stood behind Rainier straightened and Celia could see the pride shine in their eyes. The action was echoed by most of the soldiers who lined the hall, as they gazed up at their leader with such admiration it almost hurt. To be validated by their Inquisitor and to know that their sacrifices were acknowledged and appreciated meant the world to them. They fought for a cause that was changing the world. Coin, prestige, titles it didn’t matter. They were fighting the war that the petty nobles of Orlais and the stubborn dog lords of Fereldan refused to fight. Theirs was a cause that stretched beyond borders and banners. They were <em>proud </em>to serve and they were proud to fight for an Inquisitor who made every effort to ensure their well-being. Lives would be lost and there was no avoiding that. But the soldiers remained firm in their conviction that <em>more </em>lives would have been sacrificed if anyone else was at the Inquisition’s helm.  </p><p>Celia looked away from Rainier and peered up at the rafters of the Rookery. She was losing control and if she were not careful, she would do more harm than good in this proceeding. She could not pretend to be impartial, but justice demanded she restrain herself. Justice could so easily become vengeance and Celia felt it calling to her. It would be so easy to fall prey to its temptations.  </p><p>“I have only one question for you Rainier. Why should I spare you?” </p><p>“You shouldn’t. I committed those crimes and lied to my men about what they were doing. When everything came to light, I <em>ran</em>, leaving my men to be punished for the mistake they made on my orders.” He spat. “You shouldn’t spare me. I have served you faithfully, but no amount of good deeds will make up for the actions I committed... I am ashamed of who I was and what I am. I expect no mercy, for I doubt I would be merciful to another who bore my crimes. The man before you today would stand between Rainier and that carriage, but I can’t change the past.” </p><p>Cole’s voice whispered to her, “<em>He carries the bodies to remember.</em>” It was a phrase the boy-spirit had used multiple times when discussing Rainier. She had tried to block him out with little success. She did not feel sympathy for Rainier, and she knew she never would. He was a murderer, a liar and a traitor. He deserved to be thrown to the wolves and devoured. But she could not ignore the actions of <em>Blackwall</em><em>. </em></p><p>For over a year he had been a warrior she had depended upon. He was a man of bawdy jokes and good humour. A friend always with a compassionate shoulder and listening ear. He had <em>tried </em>to do good. Whilst she could feel herself becoming more jaded as time passed, he hadn’t. He believed the best in people; a trait she didn’t possess. One she knew she would always appreciate but never acquire. </p><p>“It is true, you have fought at my side and have served the Inquisition even if it was under false pretence. Many demons and other abominations have fallen before your blade. You have taken personal injury to protect my allies and helped the refugees in the Hinterlands before you even knew what the Inquisition was. But I cannot and will not let the deaths of innocents be answered with complacency, or worse <em>reward</em><em>. </em>You lived your lie for six years and maintained it to the Inquisition for one of them. In that time, you had opportunities to come forward which you did not take. It was only once your hand was forced that the truth was revealed. Due to this, I find that there is only one path forward.” </p><p>Celia had agonised over the sentence she was to deliver. Several of her companions had offered their thoughts with the most vindictive of those being from Cassandra, Vivienne and Cullen. Meanwhile Sera, Varric and Cole argued for mercy. She could sometimes be swayed in her decisions by her friends, but not this time. Rainier’s betrayal cut deep, with previous bonds of loyalty, trust and friendship being torn apart through his actions. The Inquisition could not be seen as being permissive in the face of such deception and betrayal. Celia needed to establish the cost of such actions <em>now</em>, in the most public of fashions and she needed to present the warning to those watching in the Keep and beyond. She happened to agree with Vivienne, “You must recognise the blow struck to you my dear. However, now is the time to remind them whythey defer to your judgement in the first place. Your enemies will not wait for you to make the first move.” With her resolve strengthened, she spoke.  </p><p>“Thom Rainier, you have confessed to the murders of innocents. Your hands will be stained with their blood forevermore. Your crimes, which you sought to escape for many years, has been revealed and now you face the consequences of those decisions... stand.” Rainier struggled to his feet, dried tears caused what little cheek that was not covered in hair to have become blotchy and red.  </p><p>Celia Evelyn Trevelyan, daughter and the only surviving heir of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick, Inquisitor of the Second Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste, stood. The rigid structuring of her bodice caused her to appear taller than she was, as sun beams burst through the stained-glass window behind her, which wreathed the dais she stood upon in its blinding light. The rest of the hall arose to attention and held its breath.  </p><p>“Thom Rainier, ordinarily I would sentence you to die. The crimes you have committed and the lies you fabricated to protect yourself are too numerous to count. However, the Inquisition is not the only Order whom you have deceived and I cannot afford to waste a good sword arm. Warden-Constable Blackwall intended for you to join the Grey Wardens, and I will honour his memory in the way that you never did. As such, my verdict is this: Thom Rainier, once Corypheus has been defeated and the risk of Grey Warden’s falling prey to his corruption has ceased, you will be handed over to the Senior Wardens at Weisshaupt Fortress. I will deliver you myself if I must. There, your fate will be decided by them. I give you to the Wardens not as a mercy, for I am told that not all survive the Joining and that the life of a <em>true </em>Warden is difficult. If you die, be it via the Joining or execution, it will be no less than what you deserve. If you live… I would make it count, for you can be assured that mercy will not be granted by myself or by the Empress Celene.” Celia stepped down towards Rainier, who looked up at her, astonished.  </p><p>“In the meanwhile, a sword-arm cannot be ignored in times such as these, no matter how much I wish it were so. You are hereby no longer permitted to join me in the field. Instead, you shall serve under Commander Cullen and my military officers. From today, never again shall you be permitted to walk the Keep freely. You are to be accompanied by a minimum of two guards,<em> at all times</em><em>. </em>You shall not leave this Keep unless permission has been granted by myself, Commander Cullen, my Spymaster, Ambassador Montilyet or Seeker Pentaghast. Every correspondence you send or receive will now first pass through the hands of my Spymaster. You are hereby forbidden from walking through the Inquisition’s main camp, as I would rather see Corypheus succeed than have you within 50 feet of the children kept under my care. If I so much as hear of you <em>looking </em>at them, your life is forfeit.” The Inquisitor now finally stood face to face with the accused.  </p><p>Rainier shuffled forward and raised his bound hands as if to touch her, muttering “Celia -” </p><p>Immediately, soldiers rushed forward drawing their swords, and they glared at the prisoner’s arm until he jerked back and retracted it. The Iron Bull, Cullen and Cassandra did not step away from where they had pressed closer, but they did slowly lower their blades. Varric, features twisted in pity, lowered Bianca from his shoulder, as Dorian and Vivienne cancelled the spells charged in their palms from where they watched from the balcony above, standing beside a cohort of agents who all had arrows trained on the prisoner. All her companions had been placed where they were specifically for this reason. She knew the chance that Rainier would strike her were next to none, but she was taking no chances. She could have incapacitated him herself in several seconds with the blade hidden where the busk of her corset should lie. Her training with Heir had solidified her as a well-oiled machine, capable of taking a life as quickly as she pleased. This was merely a reminder to him, and to those watching, who would no doubt be reporting the days verdict to their patrons later, the strength of the Inquisition and its allies. A reminder of just how well protected the Inquisitor was.</p><p>This was her fortress, and these were her allies to command, and her men were prepared to die to save her if they must.</p><p>She was not vulnerable.  </p><p>The Inquisitor pressed forward, a snarl marked her face which twisted her aristocratic features into that akin to a wolf. “Don’t <em>ever </em>presume to touch me again or speak my name. You will refer to me only as Inquisitor Trevelyan, if you must address me at all. You will also only refer to my companions by their titles, with the respect that they are due and for which they have <em>earned</em><em>. </em>Never again shall you hold private council with me or be allowed to consume my time. I have already wasted enough of it on you.” Her disgust bled through every line and her jaw jutted forward from how much she clenched it.  </p><p>“Will you comply with this verdict or will you provide me the opportunity to see a different form of justice delivered <em>right now?” </em> </p><p>Rainier swayed slightly on his feet, eyes still desperately trying to catch her own, as hers looked over his shoulder. He once again straightened his posture, appearing for a moment like the man she thought she had known.  </p><p>“As you command, Inquisitor Trevelyan.” </p><p>There was a slight pause where Rainier and Celia simply gazed at each other before Celia nodded her head slightly and Cullen stepped forward to unlock his chains. The Commander would not even look at him and Rainier felt another blow in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he did anyway, “If I’d said anything less, would an arrow from the Rookery have snuffed me out like a candle?”  </p><p>Suddenly, the slight whistle of an arrow pierced the air and the projectile penetrated the rug between his feet, the arrow’s feathers a bright blood red. Jumping back, he glanced around wildly before he caught sight of the terrifying redhead crouched in the rafters, bow in hand and eyes penetrated his skull. The threat was clear and the fact that he had caught sight of her at all let him know that it was only because <em>she </em>willed it. She had wanted him to see her. He had no doubt that if the Spymaster wished it, he’d be dead several times over by now.  </p><p>“Does that answer your question?” The Inquisitor’s voice was flat and disinterested. “Now get out of my sight. You are dismissed.”  </p><p>With that, Celia Trevelyan swept from the great hall, the crowd parted to let her leave as Josephine and Cullen followed her in the direction of the War Room. Noise immediately erupted as nobles exclaimed over the excitement of the ordeal as they mentally composed the letters they would be sending to their beneficiaries later.  </p><p>Two soldiers came to stand by him, not touching him, but clearly there to escort him back to his quarters. As he walked away, Sera shoved her way to his side and stuck by him, poking faces at the nobles who sniffed in their direction. Despite himself, a small genuine smile crossed his face at the boisterous elf’s actions.  </p><p>Just before they reached the door, Cassandra looked up from where she had been talking to Leliana, who had somehow appeared from the rafters. Her eyes held a fury the likes of which he had hoped he’d never be on the receiving end of. She broke their gaze with a noise of disgust, turning back towards the Left Hand.  </p><p>Yet as he descended the stone steps, he felt the burning sensation of someone watching him. Looking back, he could not stop the pang of fear that shot through him as he met the icy flames that was Leliana’s gaze. The threat was clear.  </p><p><em> Next time, I </em><em>won’t </em><em>miss.  </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can honstly say I'm very proud of this chapter and it was definitely a blast to write. I always thought Blackwall's crimes were never given the severity that they should have been, and I wanted to address that here. </p><p>I'm sorry for the lack of interaction between Celia and Leliana here, but this sets up some things going forward. </p><p>I hope you enjoyed!</p><p>Kudos, comments and constructive feedback are always appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Deception and Discovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The fallout over Rainier continues, and Celia makes her move regarding a little theory she has.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for the support so far, I'm truly having a blast with this story so far :)</p><p>Enjoy x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Inquisitor handled the report from Josephine lightly, eyes tracing the neat and fine hand of her Ambassador. Her eyes raised to meet her advisors’, noting Josie’s slightly pinched expression and Cullen’s stubborn grimace.</p><p>“I suppose it was too much to ask that no one would make a fuss over all this mess?” She said.</p><p>The Antivan sighed, “Indeed, Inquisitor. Whilst we may not have used the Grey Warden treaties Black-” she stumbled before correcting herself, “Rainier suggested, this has done little to abate much of the anger over his deception.”</p><p>Celia frowned, placing the report down beside the rest on the war table. “How many messages have you received so far?”</p><p>Josephine’s tone was carefully managed, “Several, Your Worship.”</p><p>Celia held back a sigh. The fallout over Rainier was beginning to hurt and she knew the damage was likely to continue for some time. His sentencing had been carried out only a week prior and, in that time, Celia had not sought out the man, and he had seemingly done the same to her.</p><p>His presence felt like an itch under her skin that refused to go away. Every time she entered the stables, she was reminded of him. He had been moved to more secure quarters, as it was decided that his continued presence in the stables posed too much of a security risk, so he now resided with the rest of the Inquisition’s main forces in the barracks.</p><p>It had been odd the first time she had ventured down to the stables. She half expected him to turn up from around the corner, woodworking tools in hand and a wry comment to share. She was in the process of breaking in a new mount, a gift from Lady Mantillon after the performance Celia had given regarding the Comte de Poisson, thus Celia had been back and forth that area of the Keep with some frequency. She had been tempted to instruct Master Dennet to find someone to do the deed instead, but the Trevelyan's were known horse specialists and the mare was simply too gorgeous for her to miss out on the opportunity. That, and Celia refused to let Rainier dictate her movements in her own Keep.</p><p>She had been glad of his absence however, for she could not be certain how she would react to being alone with him. She had never been as close to Blackwall as she was to Cassandra or Dorian. The Warden had simply been too far removed from her own life experiences for them to share many common interests, beyond both being members of the Inquisition. His reluctance to discuss his past had also been a barrier, making her hesitate to form a deeper friendship. Instead, theirs had been one of mutual respect and appreciation. Warrior to warrior, they had bled, fought and banded together for their common cause. And yet...</p><p>Celia may not have been as close to him as she was some others of the Inner Circle, but she had still told Blackwall personal details about her life. She had confided in him details about her siblings, not necessarily the entire story surrounding her arrival at the Conclave, but enough for him to discern that her brothers and sister were dead and had been murdered alongside the Divine by Corypheus. He had known this personal tragedy and had had the <em>gall</em> to express remorse and sympathy when he had been <em>responsible</em> for the deaths of other families – ones not too dissimilar from her own. It gnawed at her and she had come close several times to having him removed from the Keep entirely. Her decision had been fair, but it did not feel that way sometimes. When she tossed and turned in her bed at night, memories of her siblings would flood forth and she could only bite her lip and pray to the Maker that she had done the right thing.</p><p>Rainier remained in Skyhold for now, but his deception also proved something far more concerning to her, something Celia had not had to confront before now. The Inquisitor may be secluded in a fortress hidden in the Frostback Mountains, surrounded by all manner of trained soldiers and spies, but she still possessed weaknesses. Most notably, her friends.</p><p>The Free Marcher did not hand out her trust easily. Her position as Inquisitor ensured that for her own safety, and the safety of others, her social circle remained small. Anyone close to her risked being pursued by her enemies, for which there were many and Celia did not want to risk the lives of those she cared about. Members of the Inquisition could not be helped, but by limiting her friendships outside Skyhold, Celia hoped she had provided the Venatori less opportunities to strike at her, as those opposed to her would no doubt relish the chance of having leverage over the Inquisition.</p><p>But Rainier fractured this safety net. He had used and abused her trust to deflect from himself and lied to her so thoroughly she could not say what she believed to be true or not about him anymore. She was not sure she wanted to begin to untangle the lies, afraid of what else she might find.</p><p>It was proving to be a somber reminder of how much the noble had come to depend upon those closest to her. She tried not to think about it too much, and it was not as if she had much of an opportunity to do so. She was constantly managing her Inquisition; deploying agents, ordering reconstruction efforts and passing judgements when not in the field. Cole had been apt in his description of her, “<em>War and weariness, blood and battle, life learning to lead, clash, kill</em>.”</p><p>She had had experience with leading in a limited capacity, for House Trevelyan was well respected in the Free Marches, but they were a drop in the ocean compared to the legions she now commanded. Celia was not the first born, so her brothers had received more training than she did in matters of jurisdiction. It unsettled her slightly how well she took to it, remembering how Edward and Benedict had chaffed under some of her father’s lessons. They had been brash, emotional, quick to act and too slow to think. Her father had preached reason, yet they had not understood that lesson. Now, after everything, Celia believed she did. Her father’s voice spoke to her, “<em>You must be quick to act when justice is required. Remember your duty to protect, as well as to guide. An action performed in haste can cause more damage than was originally performed.</em>”</p><p>The moment her judgement of Rainier had been delivered Josephine had informed the appropriate parties of her decision. Celene had promptly replied, voicing her support for the diplomatic and swift delivery of justice. Meanwhile, Hawke had agreed to pass on word to the Senior Wardens at Weisshaupt Fortress, as soon as she arrived with the rest of the exiled Wardens. Celia had known her decision had been controversial, with many feeling that she had been too soft on the traitor. Many had been eager to see Rainier swing for his treason, that they did not get the chance caused some measure of indignation amongst the Orlesian nobility. However, it was too late now to change her mind, no matter how much sleep she lost over it. She was going to have to live with the consequences, and from the look on her Ambassador’s face, those consequences were likely to be costly for a while.</p><p>Cullen scoffed, hand coming to rest on the pommel of the sword at his hip. His thick eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips curled downward at the corners, pulling the scar he had down with it. “We did not embarrass some duchess at a soiree by stepping on her gown! The sky was torn open and Haven beset by an ancient Tevinter Magister. We had larger priorities than Rainier.”</p><p>The Commander had not voiced any complaints about her handing Rainier over to him for his sentencing, so she could only assume from this that he had no complaints about him so far.</p><p>Josie turned towards him, “That is no longer the entirety of it, Commander. The Inquisition is now being questioned on how his deception went unnoticed for as long as it did. They claim that our ignorance to his crimes demonstrates incompetency in matters of judgement.”</p><p>The Commander’s voice was stern, “A verdict was handed out as soon as we knew of his deception! Rainier fooled all of us, even the Grey Wardens themselves! The entirety of the Inquisition cannot suddenly be called into question because of one small mistake.”</p><p>“But it is.” Celia said.</p><p>The Ambassador and Commander turned to look at her, and Leliana watched the argument mutely. “Rainier escaped our detection for a year, Commander. That is no small length of time. The nature of his crimes does not help us either. For a year, the Inquisition was unknowingly harbouring a child killer... We have proven ourselves as a stabilizing force, and an organisation who can be depended upon to deliver justice. This ‘mistake’ as you called it, calls all of that into question, as our past decisions are now being scrutinised. If we were wrong about Rainier, what is to say we didn’t get anything else wrong too?”</p><p>It had been a thought Celia had dreaded thinking about. She knew that not every prisoner brought forward for sentencing had been innocent, but the nagging thought in the back of her mind would not let questions of <em>what if?</em> be. Was she too harsh on Mayor Gregory Dedrick for instance? She had sentenced him to death, but had that been the most appropriate course of action? What if she had missed some intelligence that could confirm what he had insisted – that nearly the entire village of Old Crestwood had had the Blight? Would it have even mattered if she had found such evidence? Hundreds had drowned because of his decision, what use was there arguing over intention when the deed had already been done? Or perhaps the opposite, evidence which would have condemned him to not just the executioner's axe, but further punishment? These thoughts spun and spun in her head, tangling and tugging at her, until she felt like she had swallowed a rock that sat heavy in her stomach.</p><p>The Commander shook his head at her, clearly unimpressed.</p><p>“If we want the Inquisition to survive beyond Corypheus’ defeat, we must address this. We won’t always be at war Cullen.” Celia’s voice was resolute.</p><p>The ashen haired woman placed both hands on the table, leaning forward to gaze at the map with unseeing eyes. Her brain worked a mile a minute, trying to think of options.</p><p>“Do we still have those favours with my cousin, Lady Osher Bayart?”</p><p>Josephine nodded, realising what Celia was thinking. “We do, Your Worship.”</p><p>“Good. She and several other members of my family hold sway in Chantry cloisters across Orlais, Nevarra and the Free Marches. If we can get them to advocate for our decision, this would go some ways to mitigating the damage. If they can convince some of the clerics that we were truly blinded to his deception, this will convince several of the more reasonable noble families. If they can also convince others that Rainier’s punishment was an act of mercy, in according with the Maker, even better. Also, if I remember correctly, a distant cousin of mine, Philliam, has connections to several courts which would also be of great use right now. Can you see to it that the missives are sent? To entice the deal perhaps offer them a favour from me personally. Maybe some wine as well?”</p><p>The Antivan smiled, pleased. “Of course, Inquisitor. I already know just the vintage. Might I also suggest several ambassadors who could help us with this? I have contacts in Fereldan and Antiva who could be of assistance in this matter.”</p><p>Celia nodded, eyes flittering between areas on the map. “Of course, Josephine. I trust you with this. Do what you think is necessary.” The Ambassador was clearly satisfied with their solution, quickly jotting down the task into her notes.</p><p>Cullen huffed, frustrated. “Do we really need to waste time on this? These nobles will scuffle amongst themselves over this until the next scandal comes around. They won’t even remember this in a sennights time.”</p><p>Celia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Commander, the sooner we deal with this political fallout, the sooner we can draw their attention back towards Corypheus.”</p><p>“Surely-”</p><p>Josie intervened, ever the peace maker. “Commander, I understand your frustration, but the Inquisitor is correct. The Inquisition has proven contentious to many, and any rallying point which suggests a weakness on our behalf needs to be addressed before it becomes a larger issue.”</p><p>“But what threat do these nobles pose? They posture, but they would not dare attack us now. They are a distraction, and not even that in truth. You may appease them now Ambassador, but they will simply reappear again when they sense they have something to gain. Your efforts won’t stop them from wasting our time, surely you could focus your efforts towards something that <em>actually</em> assists the Inquisition’s forces?” His disdain was obvious, as his lip curled in disgust. Hurt flashed across Josie’s face for a moment before she schooled her expression, looking down at her notes to avoid Cullen’s scathing words. Leliana turned to the Commander, outrage in her eyes and poison ready to dart from her tongue.</p><p>Celia quickly stepped in, having had enough of all of this. “You forget yourself Commander. If you cannot appreciate stopping a battle before it becomes one, then I despair for our forces.” That pulled the stubborn man up short. His mouth gaped slightly in shock before he flushed a deep shade of red. Celia pursed her lips and kept her gaze pinned on the uncomfortable man, “Haven proved that words can bury any organisation. We are not so small now as to be so easily dismissed, that is true, but we cannot solve every problem with our fist. We need the support of the noble houses, and addressing their concerns, their <em>valid</em> concerns, will allow us to spread the story we wish to tell. I truly am concerned with the sheer ignorance you demonstrate in this matter. Did the Templars not receive donations from the nobility, as a gesture of their favour?”</p><p>He stammered, “Ye-yes Inquisitor, bu-”</p><p>Celia raised her hand. “But nothing. Our noble allies have contributed much to the cause and will do so again in the future once we confront Corypheus. I thought I had made it clear back in Haven that your attitude was not appreciated, and this is the final time I will address this with you. You will not disparage Lady Montilyet any further with your dismissive remarks towards her, and her work. Our Ambassador has cemented numerous treaties and alliances which have helped us in the past and will aid us again in the future. She works just as hard as anyone else in this room to ensure our success. I will not accept anything being said to the contrary. I tire of these arguments and would rather use our time coming up with more ideas on how we can use our forces for good, rather than bicker amongst ourselves. Have I made myself clear?”</p><p>Shamed and contrite, Cullen nodded. Josephine flashed a weak smile her way, clearly hurt but thankful for her defence. “Now then, if that’s all settled, let us get to work. How are we progressing on our advance to the Arbor Wilds? Any word from Celene on how many of her forces we can expect?”</p><p>An hour passed with her three advisors updating her on their current objectives. Cullen never did manage to meet her eyes again and Celia felt the slightest bit of regret for her outburst, but she could not bring herself to feel terribly sorry. Her Commander had always opposed all diplomatic efforts that Celia, Josie and Leliana concocted, and Celia felt offense on Josephine’s behalf over how easily he dismissed her contributions. Celia had come down to the war room no end of nights when she could not sleep to find her Ambassador working by candlelight, finishing missives and planning reports. The Antivan worked night and day to make Celia’s life as easy as possible and the ashen haired woman would see her appreciated appropriately. The Commander had needed a dressing down and she was only surprised it had taken as long as it had for it to happen.</p><p>“If that is all, then I think we can end this meeting. Thank you for your reports. Update me if anything changes.”</p><p>Celia tidied her papers and watched as Cullen quickly left the room, not sparing a look or word for the women behind him. Josie and Leliana went to follow, but stopped when Celia called, “Spymaster, a moment?”</p><p>Josephine nodded to her friend with a smile and left as well, closing the door behind her as she returned to her office. Leliana walked back around the table and resumed her usual post opposite the Inquisitor. She folded her arms neatly behind her back. “Inquisitor?”</p><p>The Herald did not look up from her reports for a moment, marking a page that she planned to review later. Celia then looked up, assumed Leliana’s own pose, as she folded her arms behind her back and cocked her hip to the side.</p><p>“There is something that has been bothering me.” She said, expression blank.</p><p>Leliana raised an eyebrow, not knowing where this was going. “Oh?”</p><p>“And I believe that you can help me with it.”</p><p>“If I can help, then of course. My services are yours.”</p><p>The younger woman nodded, before she removed a report from the pile in front of her, sliding it across the war table towards the redhead.</p><p>It was dated to four weeks ago and the edges had been well worn, as if someone had run it through their hand's many times.</p><p>
  <em>Lieutenant Cyril Mornay, one of the soldiers responsible for the Callier Massacre of 9:37, was captured in Lydes. Like the others who were arrested for their involvement, Mornay insists that he did not know who he was assassinating, and that he was just following the orders of his captain. This captain, Thom Rainier, is still at large. Mornay is to be executed within the week in Val Royeaux. </em>
</p><p>Celia watched Leliana’s face, looking for a hint of change but there was none. She felt her heart thud harshly in her chest, as her palms gripped each other tightly behind her back. The Spymaster peered at the report. “This was the report that went missing <em>non</em>? The report that my agents found in Rainier’s quarters?”</p><p>The Free Marcher nodded. “It is.”</p><p>Leliana frowned. “Is there something in this report that confuses you, Your Worship?”</p><p>“It is not so much as what is <em>in</em> the report, but rather the circumstances surrounding it, which concerns me.”</p><p>The redhead folded the parchment, placing it back on the table. “I’m not sure I understand, Inquisitor.”</p><p>“You see, ever since we discovered Rainier’s secret, I’ve been asking myself; how <em>is</em> it we didn’t know about him? He has been a part of the Inquisition for many months now and in that time, he has established friendships with many of the men and women who serve it. He has discussed little of his personal life, but enough that someone would have been able to verify the details.”</p><p>Celia walked to the end of the table, looking down it towards the redhead, the writ from the Divine resting by her hand, her fringertips traced the sunburst sigil embossed into the leather. “I’ve been going over the details again and again. In hindsight it was so obvious. The reluctance to talk about the Wardens, his past, his apparent lack of struggle with the fake Calling. When I asked about how he earned his Wings of Valour at Halamshiral, he did not want to discuss it. The signs were right in front of me. Yet, his secret remained secure.”</p><p>Celia trailed her eyes along the carved surface of the war table, before raising her eyes back to her Spymaster. The Left Hand remained as still as a statue, keeping her eyes trained on the Inquisitor.</p><p>She continued, seeing as Leliana was not about to speak, “So, then I am left to wonder. You are a spymaster of no small talent. I have seen you unearth secrets hidden for centuries. I have seen you work and know you let no-one into the Inquisition without first investigating them. I also imagine that nothing happens in this Keep that you are unaware of. If you were anyone else, I would say that you simply missed these details. Or maybe you trusted the wrong sources. But we both know that isn’t true.”</p><p>Leliana faced the Inquisitor with eyes that gave away no secrets, her cowl casting shadows which obscured her features.</p><p>“You knew, didn’t you.” It was not a question nor was it an accusation. It was said as a matter of fact.</p><p>Celia had gone over every conversation she had had with Blackwall. She had noticed some hesitancy and inconsistencies in his stories but had chalked it up to him hiding specific details from her. The Grey Warden practice of recruiting prisoners was well-known, and Celia had always assumed that Blackwall had led such a life. She would not have shamed him for it, but out of respect she had never pressed for details.</p><p>Yet ever since she had been handed that report about Mornay and everything came to light, it had bothered her. Leliana’s skills were unrivalled. She was paranoid, intuitive, and frighteningly thorough. Something like this, from someone in such proximity to her, could not have escaped her notice. Maker’s breath, Leliana could <em>see</em> the stables from her Rookery! Had that been deliberate? A coincidence? (When it came to Leliana, Celia was inclined to believe that such things as coincidence did not exist.)</p><p>Every move was calculated. She was the Nightingale of the Imperial Court, and before that, a master Bard. She knew how to play the Game. If there was one thing Celia knew for certain it was that Leliana played to win, by any means necessary.</p><p>When she had decided to dig a bit further on her own, she knew she was not imagining things and the more she had thought on it, the more convinced Celia had become of her little theory. It had been surprisingly easy to unearth records of contestants from previous Grand Tourneys. All she had had to do was flash her name and the event organisers were only too happy to hand over records, assuming she meant to investigate her own family's successes in the event. There, for all to see, was the name Thom Rainier, next to the Chevalier who Rainier claimed to have tried to recruit him, Ser Geoffroy de Bordelon. 'Gordon Blackwall' was not on any of those lists. Other records she had cursory looked at further proved her suspicion. ‘Blackwall’ claimed to have been a soldier. She could not find any records of a Blackwall in the Orlesian or Feraldan military, nor any mention of the name on the records of soldiers employed by the city states of the Free Marches. After consulting family contacts, she had also confirmed that no Gordon Blackwall had ever been born in the city of Markham.</p><p>It was all there, and it all lead to the same conclusion: If Celia could find these records, so could Leliana.</p><p>She recalled the redhead’s remarks about Blackwall when he first joined their cause, “<em>I am, however, glad that he is with us, even if he was … <strong>not</strong> what I expected.</em>” At the time, the young noble had not paid it any attention, too caught up in her grief regarding her siblings’ deaths and struggling to deal with being thrust into a position within a fledgling Inquisition. But now...</p><p>The final sign had been the report. It had simply been too convenient. That information had just <em>happened</em> to be lying around for Blackwall to find, and the report confirming who Thom Rainier was, given to her after his flight to Val Royeaux, was too quickly at hand for it to have been something tucked away, forgotten or discarded as irrelevant.</p><p>It had all made such startling sense that Celia had not known what to do with herself.</p><p>“Yes, I knew.”</p><p>The air left her chest harshly. She had not expected Leliana to have confessed so easily, but then again, the game was up, and her Spymaster must have sensed that as well. Why continue to lie about the apparent?</p><p>All she could bring herself to ask was, “Why?” Her nostrils flared as Celia attempted to reign in her confusion and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Better yet, why did you keep this a secret from me?”</p><p>The redhead sighed softly; her eyes dropped to gaze at the tear in the map from Cassandra’s dagger. It had pierced the parchment directly over Val Royeaux. It seemed shockingly long ago now, that first trip to the capital. Cassandra had been adamant in their appearance as she had clung to the hope that the Chantry was capable of change. Celia had been more reserved, she remembered. Acknowledging that it was necessary but concerned that it would achieve little if the Mothers refused to listen to them.</p><p>On the return trip, the Herald had sought out Blackwall on her suggestion and returned with the grizzled warrior. Leliana remembered seeing him that first time and immediately identified him as an imposter. Her early reports on Warden Blackwall remained vague, but she did possess several witness testimonies from those who had served with him. Accounts from Warden-Constable Alisse Fontaine, a close friend of Blackwall’s, for instance, had been the most useful resource to her. The senior warden’s descriptions of him did not match Rainier.</p><p>His hair was said to have been a solid black with hints of appearing grey, rather than the dark earth toned brown of Rainier’s. His eyes were said to have been the colour of silverite steel and his build was supposed to be taller and leaner. Fontaine had not been heard from for some time, either because she had fallen to the Calling or been slain by a Warden mage. Thus, Leliana had continued her investigation without the recourse of calling on someone who had known Blackwall personally.</p><p>Even if she had not had those descriptions, Leliana was convinced she would have known of his falsehoods. She had fought with Wardens in the past and was familiar with their mannerisms and customs. Rainier may have worn the armour of a Warden, but he did not wear the expression of one. He lacked the haunted look in his eyes, something that from her experience, all Wardens wore. Their connection to the Blight and darkspawn ensured that their rest was never completely peaceful, even when a Blight was not upon them. His cheeks were full, lacking the gauntness that came from constant ravenous hunger that could never be satisfied. Rainier had also been too friendly, too eager to offer his assistance when Wardens were sworn to neutrality. For a senior Warden, which Blackwall was (or had been, she supposed), it raised red flags with her. She recalled Riordan and his complete disinterest in the civil war in Fereldan, caring only for the darkspawn. He had wished for the civil war to be over, but only so that the Blight could be addressed.</p><p>‘Blackwall’s’ offer to help the Inquisition may have been well meaning, but it had been another chink in the disguise he wore.</p><p>And if all of that had not been enough, the man had avoided her like the plague once he settled in Haven. It had not been exactly subtle. Unfortunately for him, secrets never stayed that way for long when she was involved.</p><p>“I was aware that he was not who he said he was, but I had yet to determine his true identity when he first joined our cause. I was committed to having him detained when you submitted your report detailing his efforts in the Hinterlands... It gave me pause. I had agents contact the farmers he had ‘conscripted’ and received no end of praise for the man. Those sentiments were echoed elsewhere and so I decided to keep a close eye on him in Haven. If he was a traitor, he would be eliminated before he could strike. But if he was something else... I could watch him.” Leliana looked at Celia’s hurt expression, feeling a pang of remorse shoot through her at the look of betrayal she received.</p><p>Celia bit her lip, as her frustration mounted. “That didn’t answer my question as to <em>why </em>you didn’t tell me.”</p><p>Leliana managed her words carefully, “You were unaware as to his deception. If I had informed you, you may have revealed our hand. You had begun building a rapport with the man and I...” she hesitated. “I did not want you to have to deal with more problems when I was capable of handling this myself. I never meant for you to be so involved in all of this.”</p><p>The Inquisitor let out a choked laugh. “Well Spymaster... by keeping this from me, you have entirely undermined me and my authority. I now look and feel the fool. You may have succeeded in hiding this information from most, but some will connect the dots as I did.” Leliana twitched ever so slightly. It was true and the Bard knew it.</p><p>Celia continued, “Why not tell me after Haven? Was it not clear at that point that he was not a spy?”</p><p>“I felt that it was...”</p><p>“What? Unnecessary? A waste of time? Well Spymaster, you were mistaken. If you had informed me of the company I kept then maybe some of this could have been avoided. Instead, we now have to deal with the public ramifications of your decision.” Celia did not raise her voice. She never shouted when angry, instead her words became clipped and sharp. Her eyes brewed a veritable storm and Celia could feel the mark crackle under her glove. Her emotions whirled and Leliana simply stood there, admitting her mistakes and yet clearly not sorry for them.</p><p>A stand-off between the two women held for a moment before the Inquisitor heaved a sigh, closed her eyes for a moment, as all the fight drained from her. Quietly she said, “Leliana, <em>how</em> am I meant to lead this Inquisition if my Spymaster hides things from me?” Crossing her arms, she struggled to find the words needed to convey how impossible the entire situation was. “I am forced to make decisions that have ramifications both large and small. How am I to make an informed decision about anything, if I cannot trust that you are telling me everything I need to know? What does it say about the Inquisition that its leader is not trusted with the entire truth of things?”</p><p>Celia wished for a seat in that moment. She had not wanted a fight, only the truth. This entire situation exhausted her, but she knew that if she did not confront Leliana about this now, it may happen again and next time the consequences could be far worse.</p><p>Leliana too felt herself slump slightly. She had never meant for Celia to get hurt, just like she had not meant for Josie or Cassandra to also feel betrayed by Rainier’s exposure. The Seeker had not made the connections that Celia had yet, but Leliana was convinced that Josie also suspected her of having more knowledge than was publicly known. Her friend had not confronted her about it, instead giving her a look heavy with disappointment, which had hurt more than she wanted to admit.</p><p>Despite that, she did not feel regret for her actions. It was her responsibility to ensure the safety of the Herald, even if the Herald was unaware she had been in danger in the first place. Seventeen attempts on Celia’s life had been thwarted by her and her agents, and that was only counting the attempts made since their relocation to Skyhold. There were many people who wished to see their Inquisitor fall, and Leliana kept an eye, and a blade, on all of them.</p><p>Blackwall had been an unknown and Leliana detested unknowns. Keeping him close had granted her access to him if his elimination become necessary. She had quickly dismissed ideas about him being a spy and as he appeared to be a good man who was committed to helping their cause, she had let him be. It was just before Haven’s destruction when she had pieced together his true identity as Thom Rainier. But before she could do anything with that information, Haven had been destroyed, their Herald lost in the snow, presumed dead, only for her to appear as if delivered by the hand of the Maker himself.</p><p>By the time Leliana was in a position to address Rainier it had already been too late. He had firmly established himself as a member of the Inquisitor's Inner Circle, as well as a well-known and liked figure in the Inquisition. If she had made him disappear, it would be quickly noticed, and her involvement would be the natural explanation. It would draw too much attention and so she had resolved to go about things a different way.</p><p>The business with the reports had been a gamble. Her agents had been instructed to discuss Mornay’s arrest in the tavern one evening, loud enough for Rainier to overhear them from where he sat taking his supper. Mornay had been Rainier’s second in command, so she gambled on his past relationship to the accused, as well as his seemingly honourable nature. If Rainier truly had reformed, then he would not allow another to die for his failures.</p><p>Her gamble paid off.</p><p>An off-hand remark from her agents about when the next batch of reports was due, and it had been child's play to get the information into Rainier’s hands. Admittingly, she had been surprised at his hasty retreat to Val Royeaux and was slightly impressed at his ready acceptance of his potential death, having expected him to at least feel some hesitancy towards exposing and confessing his lies.</p><p>Yet, it had not gone entirely as she had anticipated. After their talk in the chantry, Leliana knew Celia needed security and friendship more than ever, but by then, her plan had already been set in motion. She had orchestrated the charade with the reports as a means of informing Celia as to Blackwall’s identity, whilst masking her own knowledge and hand in its discovery.</p><p>She had not counted, however, on Trevelyan being as clever of a player of the Game as she evidently was. She had incorrectly assumed that Celia would possess a blind spot in her evaluation of those closest to her. It was a tactic she had reliably used in the past. After all, betrayal can only come from those beside you, and doubting one’s closest advisors was not something most leaders thought to do. Most leaders believed their power to be absolute and their followers completely committed to their cause, having no ulterior motive of their own. Celia was not typical, as the Spymaster was quickly discovering.</p><p>Leliana had miscalculated, an uncommon occurrence and a humbling one. It was impressive, the Bard was ready to admit that. The ball of Halamshiral and Celia’s perfect performance had led her to think that the young noble was capable only when an obvious threat was identified. Florianne may not have been the target initially, but they had known an assassination was afoot. It is easy to maintain suspicion when one is aware that that there was something or someone to be suspicious of.</p><p>If Celia were not the Inquisitor, the Spymaster had no doubts she would have had a successful career as one of her spies, or even as one of Josie’s diplomats. She was clever, quick and deadly with a bow as well as with words. This, on top of her natural grace and beauty, made her a woman who was truly captivating. A woman after her own heart, she thought with a slight smirk.</p><p>“Do you think so little of me, that you believe me incapable of handling difficult information?” Celia’s question pulled her out of her musings.</p><p>“I believe you are capable of a great deal Inquisitor.” Leliana was quick to state. The Orlesian held no doubts as to Celia’s capabilities to lead the Inquisition. She possessed none of the ties that Leliana or Cassandra had to the Chantry and held no former allegiance to a nation or order, like Josie or Cullen did. She was a neutral force, one that Leliana had been ready to follow. She had proven herself worthy of leadership many times over, and the Spymaster could not have asked for a more fitting Inquisitor.</p><p>The Bard folded her hands in front of herself and bowed her head contritely to the younger woman. “I sincerely apologise to you, Your Worship. I acted in a manner I felt appropriate; however, I am not so proud as to be unable to admit I made a mistake. I am not sorry I tried to protect you-” she held up her hand before Celia could interrupt her. “But I am sorry that I did not confide in you my suspicions. You already carry a heavy burden, and I did not wish to add to it; however, I see now that this was a foolish notion. It is difficult to remember at times that I am not the only one with solutions. When one is used to resolving something a particular way, it becomes difficult to remember other paths are available. I shall endeavour to remember this, in future.”</p><p>Leliana was sincere, Celia could see that. She got the impression that the older woman rarely apologised, if at all. It was not the apology she had expected, and she still felt some reservation over Leliana’s machinations, but she could acknowledge that Leliana was being asked to break over ten years of routine and procedure.</p><p>As the Left Hand of the Divine, diplomatic solutions were rare and too often the former bard had been asked to spill blood to protect her loved ones. She had always had to answer to the Divine, but her freedom to act meant that she never had to truly consider other people’s feelings. She supposed she should be thankful Leliana had offered an apology in the first place, she had hardly expected to get one, especially as sincere as it was. She had half expected Leliana to deny her involvement and walk out of the War Room, so she supposed it was a good sign that they had come so far in their relationship that they did not even attempt to continue the charade once it had been discovered.</p><p>“I accept your apology.” Celia relaxed her previously tensed shoulders, walking towards the other woman. She peered into soft blue eyes. Such a pretty feature hidden beneath her cowl. They were round and soft, delicate almost.</p><p>Celia said softly, “In the future, I hope you trust me enough to tell me if you have such concerns. I am willing to listen and adhere to your guidance Leliana. I listened to you when you argued for Butler’s removal, and I agreed, but you do not need to carry this burden alone anymore. We all make mistakes, none of us are perfect. This was your mistake. If you had told me about Rainier, we could have handled the situation with more synchronicity. But that is the past, and despite all of this... I do trust you. I know you have the best intentions and are not a woman prone to hasty decisions. I have never doubted your capacity to act as my Spymaster, so be reassured that I have complete faith in your abilities.”</p><p>Celia stuck out her right hand, palm facing upwards. “I need you Leliana. But I need you by my <em>side</em>.” Leliana’s eyes flicked down towards her hand, her mouth opening in shock. “I will promise not to lie to you, if you promise the same. Let us put all of this behind us and move forward, together.”</p><p>Celia worried for a second that she had overstepped. Nothing happened for a moment, and just as she was about to withdraw her hand, Leliana placed her own in it. Their fingers clasped together; their vow silently acknowledged between them. Hazel green eyes held blue ones and Celia smiled easily at her, flushing slightly when Leliana returned her smile with a soft smirk.</p><p>“Yes Inquisitor.”</p><p>“<em>Celia</em>.” The Free Marcher pressed.</p><p>“Celia.” The other woman nodded.</p><p>In that moment, Celia felt a slight stirring in her stomach as the Bard rolled her name off her tongue. Delight flushed through her, making her cheeks blush and her eyes brighten. It was not altogether an unpleasant sensation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter is here! I will warn now that there may be a slight delay with the next, as I want to tweak it some more but it should be up before too long. </p><p>I hope you all enjoyed this update and the story so far - any constructive feedback, kudos or general comments are always welcomed and appreciated :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Halam'shivanas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Victory in the Arbor Wilds, but Celia has not come away unscathed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here is the next chapter for you all :)</p><p>This chapter has been the bane of my existence for about 8 months, but if I don't release it now I'll probably never release it. There are a few jumps in this chapter so I hope it doesn't become confusing :)</p><p>As usual, all mistakes are my own. </p><p>Enjoy! x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Happy hunting Inquisitor!” Leliana called, smiling despite the danger they found themselves in. It had been too long since she had been in the throes of battle, and she had missed it in some perverse way. The way her arrows sung from her bow as they effortlessly found their targets, ending their lives as quickly as the arrow had been fired. The roar of her blood rushing through her veins was addicting, as was the smell of sweat and crackling ozone as mage fire whipped above her head. She had been behind her desk for too long.</p><p>The Inquisitor, accompanied by Dorian, Cassandra, Vivienne and Morrigan had just come around the corner. With practiced quick shouted commands, they all jumped into the fray. Cassandra rushed forward with a battlecry that echoed through the forest, her shield slamming into the body of a Red Templar who cried out in pain as she came up on his blind side. Vivienne and Dorian took positions at the battle’s edge, throwing spells of fire, ice and lightning at their enemies, preventing their corrupted foes from moving towards the elevated perch that the Inquisition and Orlesian archers fired from.</p><p>It was here that Celia quickly moved towards, taking her position beside her Spymaster with a quick glance shared between them. They called out instructions to their fellow archers, pinning their enemies down.</p><p>“Leave the bear! It won’t harm us!” Celia called, after an Inquisition arrow landed close to the charging animal.</p><p>Morrigan had informed her of her shapeshifting abilities, but it was shocking to see the apostate change forms so quickly. The bear was of odd colouring, dark chestnut with the odd streak of purple running through her fur, but Celia could think no more on it as Morrigan’s new form rushed forward to help finish the battle.</p><p>It took little time after that to clear out the rest of their enemies as with a final dying cry from one of the Red Templars, the chaos came to holt.</p><p>Panting slightly and still feeling adrenaline course through her veins, Celia turned to her Spymaster and shared a wry grin with her fellow archer. “You are enjoying this.”</p><p>Leliana returned the expression, knowing that her eyes were alight in excitement and cheeks were flushed from the exertion. She didn’t even try to deny it. “It is has been many a year since I have been in a fight such as this.” She explained, quickly tacking a drink from her water skin. “The Commander is ahead with the rest of our forces, the fight hasn’t been easy, but we appear to be winning Inquisitor.” she explained.</p><p>“Any word about the river?” Celia’s companions joined them, hands resting on their weapons, ready for anything. Cassandra nodded to her fellow Hand which Leliana returned with a grin.</p><p>“It has seen most of the fighting, but we are making headway. The Red Templars seem to have been caught off guard. But be cautious, the fighting is thickest there, and you will need to pass through them to reach the Temple doors. Cullen awaits to assist you with several of our officers.”</p><p>Morrigan too joined them now, brushing her hands down her robes as they remained dishevelled from her transformation. “’Tis true that they seem to be on the back foot. It seems that Corypheus was not expecting an attack of such scale. He will no doubt be eager to secure his prize before we do however, so we should tarry no longer Herald.”</p><p>The Marcher nodded, seriousness returning to her features. “Has there been any word of this Eluvian?”</p><p>Leliana shook her head. “I have agents watching the Temple entrance but the attacks from both the Red Templars and these strange elves is slowing us down. They have not heard any mention of this Eluvian so far, but it is unclear how many of Corypheus’ soldiers would be aware of the reason they linger in this forest.”</p><p>“Well, we better move on then. The faster we can reach this Eluvian, the better.” Turning to her companions, she asked, “Are you all ready?”</p><p>They all gave their agreement and with one final check of their potion supply, they turned back towards the river.</p><p>Just as they reached the edge of the clearing Leliana called, “Celia!”</p><p>Her fellow archer turned, a wordless question asked by her arched eyebrow. The bard smirked, “Have fun.” Celia smiled one last time, nodding her head once in assent before she vanished from sight.</p>
<hr/><p>The fighting continued for several hours after that. The Red Templars were ferocious and held no hesitation in battle, throwing themselves at the Inquisition forces with everything they had. Not long after she had received word that Celia had entered the Temple, attacks by the shadowy elven sentinels stopped and they instead turned their focus purely to the Red Templars. The bard was fascinated by their attacks, for their speed and accuracy was incredible, but she was thankful they did not have to continue killing them, for they were not easy foes to fell.</p><p>She was beginning to feel weary from the constant battle however, her earlier exhilaration turning into fatigue. It had been hours, and whilst they may have all but won the battle, there was still no word of whether Celia had succeeded in reaching the Eluvian. Corypheus was said to have been spotted at the Temple earlier, and Leliana could only hope that the Inquisitor was alive. The Magister’s dragon had flown off not too long ago, but no other sign of Corypheus presented itself. She prayed to the Maker that it stayed that way.</p><p>Twirling her daggers (her arrow supply had depleted long ago), she sidestepped an overhead attack from a Templar brute. She quickly stepped forward into his guard, plunging her daggers into the weak spot in the joint of his armour between his shoulder guard and neck.</p><p>Her enemy faltered; blood sprayed forth from his mouth as his red speckled eyes caught hers for a moment, before he collapsed at her feet. Not sparing him a second glance she looked around for a new target when she heard Charter behind her call, “Sister Nightingale!”</p><p>The elf held a small piece of parchment in her hand, which she handed over as she reached her. Charter, alongside several of her more talented agents had been monitoring the Temple doors, awaiting signs of Calpernia or Corypheus. Scout Harding was inside watching the Inquisitor, but Leliana had not heard from her in several hours.</p><p>The scroll was enclosed with no Inquisition seal, but the handwriting on the parchment was Cassandra’s. Leliana would know her hand anywhere by now. Concern swirled in her stomach as she ripped open the scroll. The message was brief and to the point as was Cassandra’s way.</p><p>
  <em>The Temple is secured. Calpernia has abandoned her master and should not trouble us further. The Inquisitor is being moved to Skyhold immediately. </em>
</p><p>Concern settled heavier in her stomach. Celia was being moved to Skyhold? Why? The report gave no indication that she had been injured, but the urgency told her that something had happened, something that would take too long to explain by messenger. <em>Or</em> a voice whispered in her ear <em>something has happened which is too dangerous to expose via scroll</em>. She shook that thought away quickly, feeling her stomach clench in dread, nonetheless.</p><p>“Nightingale, you’ll also want to know that Scout Harding has reported back to the main camp and is awaiting you to give her report. She did not say much, but she looked concerned.” Charter was blunt, but the concern for her fellow spy shone through. Leliana nodded, tucking the parchment into her belt. A small sense of fear hung on the periphery of her emotions.</p><p>She looked up from the parchment, only to peer in concern at the blood that caked the side of Charter’s forehead. “Are you well?” She asked. The wound looked nasty, but head wounds were always difficult to judge.</p><p>“I am fine, Nightingale. A stray Templar caught me with his pommel. He didn’t live long enough to celebrate that accomplishment.” The elf’s grin was all teeth. “It stings, but it looks worse than it is.”</p><p>The Spymaster acquiesced. Charter knew her limits and she trusted her enough to know whether she needed medical attention or not.</p><p>“I shall confer with Harding and assign new orders before I depart for Skyhold. Since Corypheus’ dragon has fled the field, the attacks have slowed, so I don’t expect much fighting to continue. I leave you in charge of this group. Don’t fail me Charter.”</p><p>Charter saluted with a fist to her chest, before she turned to the remaining forces now under her command. Leliana swept one last glance around the clearing before making her way swiftly back towards the main Inquisition camp. It was time to get some answers.</p>
<hr/><p>Leliana and Josephine made their way back to Skyhold with all haste. They had received no further word from Cassandra, but they all knew something drastic had to have happened for the Inquisitor to have not sent a report herself. Celia was always prompt in handing over field reports, so to have received nothing for so long made their concern all the more grave.</p><p>There was some comfort to be had in knowing that Dorian and Madame de Fer were with her, their combined powers and Vivienne’s skill in healing ensuring that medical attention was close at hand. But this proved to be a shallow comfort for them both.</p><p>Cullen had remained behind to direct and command their forces, but they promised to update him on the Inquisitor's status as soon as they were able. The fighting in the Wilds had calmed for the most part, but some stragglers remained and they all felt it was best to stamp out the rest of the Templars as soon as possible. Cullen would oversee this operation with the help of her agents, who would work with Bull’s Chargers to route them out.</p><p>The women had made the decision to head back to Skyhold on their own, as waiting for the army would take too long and they could move faster as a small unit. Leliana was enough protection for them both, and as much as Josie wished to forget her short stint as a bard, she was capable of using a dagger if she was required to.</p><p>The Keep was just ahead, and the drawbridge was quickly lowered to let them ride through in a cloud of dust and dirt. As they came to a halt, stable hands scurried forth to take their mounts for a thorough wash and cool down. Patting her stallion’s neck in thanks, for the mounts had been given little rest these past few days, Leliana and Josephine left the stables making their way into the Keep via the kitchens.</p><p>“What do you think has happened?” Josie asked, concern making her accent thicker than it had been in years.</p><p>“I don’t know Josie. We have no idea what was in that Temple.” Leliana sighed. They had asked each other this question more than once on the ride back, but the answer remained the same unsatisfactory truth. They simply did not know. “Cassandra would have informed us if Celia was gravely injured.”</p><p>They made their way through the Great Hall and up to the Inquisitor’s quarters, thankful that no courtiers had been in the Hall to see the state of them, covered in the sweat and dirt of heavy travel. Word of the Inquisitor’s return had been kept to a small circle and seeing the Left Hand and the Inquisition’s Ambassador rushing to Trevelyan’s quarters would have caused too much fuss and speculation.</p><p>As they climbed the final steps, Cassandra met them at the bedroom door, brows furrowed severely, and with eyes heavy with bags that were dark enough to look like bruises. She was without her typical armour, clad in a simple linen shirt, which only did more to highlight how tired the Seeker looked. Her back was slumped, her typical proud posture nowhere to be seen.</p><p>There was no time for pleasantries, “What happened?” Leliana demanded.</p><p>The Seeker twisted her hands together in a sign of anxiety, “The Inquisitor is alive, and healthy from what we can see-”</p><p>“‘From what you can see?’” Josie queried.</p><p>The Nevarran’s features twisted as she struggled to find the words. “Much has happened... We entered the Temple and Celia decided to follow the rites of petition as Morrigan suggested despite our protests. There were elves in the Temple, elves from the time of the old elven empire. Since we had shown ‘respect’ to Mythal, they let us pass through without interference. But we learned that Corypheus did not seek the Eluvian as we thought. He desired something called The Well of Sorrows.”</p><p>“Well of Sorrows? So Morrigan misled us about this Eluvian?” Leliana could feel the beginning of black fury licking at her insides. She knew the witch could not be trusted!</p><p>Cassandra shook her head. “The witch was not wrong exactly. There was an Eluvian, but to access it one must partake in the Well of Sorrows.”</p><p>“What is this Well? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Josie wrapped her arms around her stomach in comfort. It was not encouraging that Cassandra had greeted them at the door and not lead them straight through to see Celia.</p><p>“...I’m not exactly sure what it was. Abelas, the elf in charge, claimed that it was the knowledge of every elven priest who had come before us. He seemed to suggest that it held incredible power, power which may help us defeat Corypheus.”</p><p>“At what cost?” Leliana knew from experience that that amount of power was not handed over freely.</p><p>The Seeker wrung her hands together again, “It would bind the drinker to the will of Mythal.”</p><p>“And what does <em>that</em> mean?”</p><p>Dark brown eyes swirled in anxiety, “I don’t know.”</p><p>Cassandra ran her hands through her hair, the crown braid looked messier than Leliana could ever recall it being. “The Inquisitor and Morrigan debated over who should drink from it. Celia was unwilling to let the witch risk it, arguing that as Inquisitor, it was her role to defeat Corypheus and since this Well would help with that, she should be the one who drinks. I argued against it, but she insisted...” she trailed off. “Celia drank and cried out in pain, but she appeared fine after a moment. Corypheus was about to attack when Celia opened the Eluvian and we fled through it. We appeared somewhere on the outskirts of the Arbor Wilds, not far from the base of the Frostbacks. Celia tried to say something, but she suddenly collapsed, convulsing on the ground. We decided to hurry back to Skyhold, but on the second day of being here, Celia started to... change.”</p><p>“Change?” Leliana’s tone was sharp.</p><p>“...It will be easier to show you.” With that, Cassandra gestured for them to follow her. Leliana shared a look with Josie for a moment before they followed.</p><p>The Inquisitor’s quarters were in disarray, vials and medical texts littered the chaise lounge and papers with Vivienne’s neat cursive were strung across Celia’s desk and tables, almost as if the mage had been pacing as she wrote them. The grand four-poster bed Josie had commissioned all the way from Antiva had two chairs placed beside it, with one currently being occupied by the court mage.</p><p>Like Cassandra, the woman looked exhausted. Her skin was sallow and her typically impeccable appearance was gone. Leaning beside her chair was her staff and, in her hands, a gigantic tome was resting against her knees. Vivienne looked up and nodded her head in greeting. But it was Celia who caught Leliana’s attention. For if she had not known who it was in the bed, she would have denied it was the Marcher at all.</p><p>There, sleeping quietly in the bed, lay a woman whose features were almost unrecognisable. Cheekbones had been lifted, her previously strong jawbone was gone, replaced with one smoother and softer in appearance. Her chin was now ever so slightly pointed and her previously ashen hair had lightened several shades, now almost a platinum blonde or silver. But what made her gasp were her ears. They were now slightly pointed at the tip! Not quite elven, but certainly not human.</p><p>Beside her, Josie too raised a hand to her mouth in astonishment. It was... shocking. Leliana had never seen such a thing before. The nobles of Orlais used magic to change their appearances slightly, employing mages to provide them with anti-aging tonics or potions that would dye their hair bright colours. It was not too common, as such things were expensive, but it was not exactly unknown. Masks cloaked much of one’s face, so facial alterations were usually not necessary. But nothing Leliana had ever heard of had suggested that magic could alter someone’s features to such an extent.</p><p>Celia appeared to be half-blooded in appearance. Previously human and familiar features replaced by something new but achingly familiar. It made the Spymaster uneasy – what exactly had Celia done? How powerful was that Well and what did this mean for the younger woman? If her physical appearance had so dramatically changed, would her personality also have been altered? Harding had informed her that the Temple housed many powerful artifacts that she had barely understood, but the dwarf could not inform her as to what had happened deeper in the Temple, as she had had to pull back to avoid Corypheus and Calpernia when they breached the inner sanctum.</p><p>If this Well truly was powerful enough to do this, what other side effects could the Inquisitor face?</p><p>“Has she woken?” Josie had moved closer, sitting on the very edge of the bed whilst the redhead’s thoughts wandered.</p><p>Vivienne shook her head, “Not exactly, darling. She has occasionally muttered phrases in elven, but she has not woken fully. Dorian and I theorise that her body is attempting to work through and process the magic the Well poured into her. Our Inquisitor is no mage, so she has never had to process magical energy in such an intense fashion.” The mage pursed her lips in thought. “Her anchor may have saved her life, as it has familiarized her physiology to the sensation and procession of magic, thus allowing her body to acclimate to it. However, without Solas, I cannot confirm this.” The Enchantress was clearly irate with this fact, but Solas’ expertise on the Fade surpassed all who worked for the Inquisition. If anyone had any chance of understanding Celia’s mark, it was the apostate.</p><p>“We have written to him and he is making his way here as soon as possible with the rest of the Inner Circle. He should be here in a day or so.” Cassandra said, sitting on the chaise with her elbows heavy on her knees.</p><p>“The Inquisitor is for all intents and purposes healthy. We now must wait for her to wake before anything further can be addressed.” Vivienne folded her hands neatly in her lap, closing the book which she had clearly not been reading.</p><p>“Where is Lord Pavus?” Josie asked Cassandra.</p><p>“He is resting. I almost had to forcibly remove him from Celia’s side. He has stood guardian over her for the last four days now, with little rest. He all but collapsed before we finally managed to convince him to sleep.” Leliana was of the opinion that Cassandra too could do with a rest, as the Seeker looked like she could fall over from exhaustion at any moment.</p><p>“Has-” Josie was interrupted as Celia suddenly whimpered, her head twisting from side to side as if she was struggling to break free from something. Behind closed eyelids, her eyes flittered frantically back and forth, and her legs twitched underneath the layers of blankets. Unrecognisable mumblings whimpered from her lips, “Ellasin selah! Vissan … vissanalla.” The voice was high in pitch, higher than Celia’s more raspy voice.</p><p>“Inquisitor? Can you hear me, my dear?” Vivienne stood over their leader, staff clutched in the one hand, ready to assist. The Marcher did not answer, continuing to flail slightly. “Mana... Ma halani!”</p><p>Cassandra sighed from behind the bard, “She has been saying these things for the last few days. None of us have any knowledge of elven so we can only guess as to what she’s calling out. Nothing we do or say seems to reach her.”</p><p>Leliana, moved by some compulsion, stepped forward and knelt beside the bed, near Celia’s head. “Celia?” she called quietly. The Inquisitor made no indication that she had heard her. Removing her leather glove, Leliana raised her bare hand to gently grasp the bandaged one of the Marcher. The bandages were clearly several days old from how soft they were, but no one had seen fit to remove them as they had her armour. Keeping Celia’s right hand in hers, she leant forward to whisper directly into the pointed ear, “Celia, you are safe.” The struggling paused slightly, but the whimpering persisted.</p><p>“Celia, you are in Skyhold. Cassandra, Josie and Vivienne are also here. Can you hear me?” Leliana’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard by the other women in the room. No one moved as Celia’s body stilled.</p><p>“Celia, do you know who I am?”</p><p>Ragged breaths slowed and the movement behind Celia’s eyelids also seemed to calm. Her head turned to the right, where Leliana knelt. “... Leliana.” The voice was more of a slurred word than anything, but the sound was undeniable.</p><p>The redhead nodded, letting her lips come closer to Celia’s ear. “That’s right. It’s Leliana. Can you open your eyes? Let me see your pretty eyes.”</p><p>The task was clearly herculean, as Celia’s eyelids fluttered desperately several times. Moments later they cracked open just a sliver and Leliana ignored the gasps from the others in the room to hum encouragingly.</p><p>Hazel green eyes had been replaced. Now, they were a startling bright emerald with a clear azure colouring around the pupil, any hint of the warm brown tones she had had previously now gone entirely. The green on the outer rim resembled the colour of the anchor, Leliana noted quickly, whilst the blue appeared bright and almost crystal like. It was a penetrating change, arresting in its intensity. The other women in the room whispered to themselves but Leliana ignored them, focusing on Celia.</p><p>The redhead smiled encouragingly. “Hello Celia. You’ve given us all quite a fright.”</p><p>The blonde furrowed her brows slightly. It took several seconds for the sentence to register, as it felt like she was so far away or underwater, words slurring together and joining the symphony of other voices that ricocheted in her head.</p><p>“Why is it so loud?” she whimpered desperately, as sweat gathered on her forehead.</p><p>Leliana frowned. Clutching the hand in her own tighter she shook her head. “Loud? No one else is speaking Celia.”</p><p>“So many voices. They’re all here, talking and shouting over each other. Lasa ghilan!” she called out in anguish.</p><p>Leliana turned to look to Vivienne but the enchanter could only shake her head sadly. She didn’t know what was happening either. Cassandra muttered a curse quietly to herself as she began to pace with Josie watching her worriedly.</p><p>“What do these voices say?”</p><p>“I don’t know... there are so many of them! They shout at me for not understanding them, but they’re so loud that I can barely begin to think!” Tears gathered in heavy lidded eyes, as Celia whimpered in pain.</p><p>Unwrapping Celia’s bandaged hand, Leliana pressed her thumbs into the palm. Applying pressure in a smooth massaging motion, she asked, “Can you feel that?” Celia nodded.</p><p>Thin eyebrows furrowed in concern, Leliana moved to Celia’s fingers, squeezing the tip of the index finger. “How about this?", Celia nodded again.</p><p>“Good. Celia, I need you to do something for me. I want you to focus here on your fingers. Feel my touch and as you focus, I want you to breathe with me, deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth.”</p><p>Leliana pressed again and she was careful to voice her encouragement when she saw Celia take stuttering but deliberate deep breaths. The Spymaster assisted her, placing Celia’s hand near her mouth so that she could feel the rhythm of her breathing to follow along. There was movement from Vivienne on the periphery of her vision, but she ignored it. The redhead touched further up Celia’s hand, moving from her palm and to her wrist, then up to the delicate skin of her forearm, before sliding back down again and starting the pattern once more. She hummed a little Orlesian tune under her breath, making sure to stay relaxed and calm. Soft notes fell from her lips as her song helped lull Celia into lucidity.</p><p>They did this six times before Celia regained some level of awareness. Vivienne came up on Celia’s left side, a pink coloured tonic held in her hand. Holding Celia’s head up she poured the contents slowly into her mouth. “This is a calming draught darling. Just relax.” She was given two mouthfuls before Vivienne put the stopper back in.</p><p>“Is that better?” Leliana asked.</p><p>Celia nodded slightly, gazing about the room with some level of confusion. “How long have I been here?”</p><p>“What is the last thing you remember?” Cassandra asked, coming forward with Josie to stand beside the bed.</p><p>“We were in the Temple. Corypheus was on the balcony and was heading straight for us...” Thin eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to recall the details. “I think I activated the Eluvian and we went through. After that...nothing.”</p><p>“Yes, that happened. Morrigan tried to lead us to the mirror that would lead us directly back to Skyhold but you disagreed. You wanted to re-join our forces back at the main camp. We found an Eluvian that placed us just outside the forest, but you collapsed as soon as we came through. Morrigan could not reactivate the mirror, so we had little choice but to bring you here. We’ve been at Skyhold for a few days now.” Cassandra explained tiredly.</p><p>Her shoulders were slumped in relief as she could finally talk to her friend. It would be hard for anyone to miss how worried she had been for Celia these last few days. She was not like Dorian or Vivienne, who could use their magic and knowledge to heal. She was a warrior, and a warrior was useless at the sickbed. All she could do was ensure that the room was defended so that the mages could work in peace and pray to the Maker to deliver her friend back to them.</p><p>“Where is everyone else? Have they returned from the Arbor Wilds? How was the battle? Did we win? Has anyone heard anything about Calpernia? Where is Morrigan? Did-” Celia broke off to cough, placing her unbandaged hand on her stomach. Leliana noted the slight stiffening of Celia’s shoulders as she noticed for the first time that her one hand was bare. She seemed to relax when she brought both her hands under the bedcovers, resting them on her stomach.</p><p>“Calm yourself, my dear, or you will have undo all of work you’ve done. You must relax.” Vivienne’s voice was firm as her lips pursed.</p><p>“After you entered the Temple the attacks by the strange elves stopped. A few hours later the Magister’s dragon was seen fleeing the forest, presumably taking Corypheus with him. Most of the Red Templars have been defeated and Cullen has remained to see to it that they do not regroup. It is too early to report casualties, but it does not appear to be as bad as we feared. No doubt the assistance from Celene made a difference on that front.” Leliana said, standing from her knelt position but not stepping away from the bedside.</p><p>“Morrigan did not return to Skyhold with us. Last we heard from her; she was returning to the Temple to explore it more thoroughly. She believes she could potentially find more information on this Well of Sorrows or other pieces of elven lore that could help you.” Cassandra explained.</p><p>“Speaking of...” Josie pointedly looked at Celia, with an expression of displeasure. Celia returned the look as evenly as she was able, lying down as she was.</p><p>“Inquisitor, <em>why</em> did you insist on drinking from this Well of Sorrows? From what we have heard, Lady Morrigan was prepared to drink instead! You could have been seriously hurt!” Josie burst out, her worry overcoming her usual sense of politeness.</p><p>“Josie, one of us had to drink from the Vir’abelasan. If we had left it, Corypheus would have taken the power held within, and who knows what untold damage he would have unleashed upon us.” Celia struggled to sit upright in bed, using her trembling forearms to push herself more vertical. Sitting upright the changes to her body were more apparent than ever and Leliana eyes lingered on the exposed delicate skin of Celia’s collarbone.</p><p>“I understand the necessity, but Celia, it did not have to be <em>you</em>!”</p><p>A small, sad smile crossed Celia’s lips and Leliana detested it. The reply was simple. “Yes. It did.” Despite Leliana knowing that Celia would not move on this, Josie did not hold the same reservation.</p><p>“Inquisitor, that Well has changed you and we have no way of knowing what else it may have altered! It is dangerous and an unknown which risks not just you but the entire Inquisition!”</p><p>Celia faltered, “What are you talking about?”</p><p>They all froze.</p><p>They looked at each other, wondering who would be brave enough to tell her. Celia looked at each of them, trying to understand what was happening. “I feel fine... at least physically. The Well’s voices are speaking to me, but they seem to be quieter now than they were earlier. I think having something to focus on is helping with that.”</p><p>Cassandra, who was not known for her tact, was hesitant. “Celia... the Well did not just give you the voices.”</p><p>Vivienne handed Celia a small hand-mirror with a closed expression. The Inquisitor looked at them all, before a shaking hand came and brought the mirror to her face.</p><p>Air abruptly left lungs as the woman stared at her new appearance. Her hand came to touch the lines of face, running fingertips over her brow bone and sharper cheekbones. She seemed frozen, unable to believe that the woman in the mirror was herself.</p><p>“Wha-” she swallowed heavily. “How?”</p><p>It was Leliana who gently took the mirror from her, freeing Celia from gazing at the stranger in her reflection.</p><p>“We don’t know, darling.” Vivienne explained tiredly. “You had been here for two days when your transformation occurred. You seemed to glow from within, and what I presume to be elven scripture appeared on your face and chest before it receded. It did not last long enough for myself or Dorian to transcribe a copy, but it looked remarkably similar to a rune, akin to a sealing agent if I was to hazard a guess. Your Arcanist would likely know more, but we have not announced your presence to the wider population.”</p><p>“Do you... <em>feel</em> any different Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked, twisting her hands together.</p><p>Celia looked past them to the opened windows, mind clearly a thousand miles away as she struggled to process what was happening and what had already happened. She absently brought her hand to her face again, tugging at her earlobe, flinching when she accidently brushed her newly pointed ear tip.</p><p>“... I feel...stretched but... <em>full</em> at the same time.”</p><p>Leliana frowned, “Celia?” but the Marcher didn’t appear to hear her.</p><p>“I feel like my soul or my mind, not my body, is being pulled in a thousand directions, but I remain rooted to a single spot. It isn’t... painful, per say, but...strange. I can feel the Well inside me. The voices whispering and then shouting on a whim, but the <em>power</em> of the Well rests just here.” She pointed to her chest. “It sits just under the surface...waiting.” They all exchanged concerned glances once more.</p><p>“Are you experiencing any physical difficulties?” Vivienne asked, keeping her eyes fixed on Celia’s face.</p><p>She shook her head. “No. I feel fine. Good, even. I don’t-” she stopped abruptly. Suddenly her previous relaxed features screwed tightly, and her head tilted to the side as if she was trying to hear something. Rapid elven was whispered to no one and Leliana and Cassandra pressed closer on both sides of Celia, worried she would collapse.</p><p>“Inquisitor?” Cassandra placed a hand on a thin shoulder, shaking the slight frame in an attempt to wake her from her stupor. “Celia can you hear me?”</p><p>“She can’t hear you.” A voice spoke from behind them.</p><p>Leliana whipped around and fell into a defensive crouch, hands clutching her throwing knives as she sought to find the person who spoke. She hadn’t heard anyone enter! Who cou-</p><p>Perched on the arm of the loveseat sat the strange boy, Cole. He sat with his legs crossed beneath him as his enormous hat hid his face mostly from view.</p><p>“Cole!” Cassandra breathed, sheathing her sword from where she too had taken a defensive position beside the Inquisitor who continued to mutter to herself.</p><p>“There are too many voices in her head, taunting, teasing, talking over her.” He explained, fiddling with a small wooden carving in his hands. Vivienne moved Cassandra aside and pressed her hand on Celia’s sweat covered forehead, whispering a short incantation. Celia’s shaking gradually ceased, her expression smoothing once more.</p><p>“What did you do?” Cassandra asked, fear making her eyes go wide.</p><p>Madame de Fer nodded in satisfaction as her spell took hold but kept close to the bedside for a moment longer before stepping back again. “Calm yourself Seeker. I placed nothing but a harmless sleeping spell on our Inquisitor. This Well is clearly a source of great power and her mind is no doubt still attempting to process the magic coursing through her. I suggest we keep her in this state until myself, Dorian and Solas can examine her more closely as well as her Mark. A few more days of sleep will do her no harm and seeing as how these voices are causing her no small measure of distress, keeping her awake would probably do more harm than good at the moment. There is nothing to be done now but wait for the apostate to arrive.” The enchanter leaned heavily on her staff, clearly exhausted beyond anything Josephine or Leliana had ever seen her. “But I can do no more right now, and I must rest if I am to ensure that I can be of assistance when the apostate arrives.”</p><p>“Of course, Madame de Fer. Do you require anything to be sent to your quarters?” Josephine asked.</p><p>“No, my dear. Sleep is all I need. You should rest as well, Cassandra. You haven’t slept in three days. You will be no help to anyone if you cannot stand up straight.”</p><p>The Seeker was already shaking her head before Vivienne could finish her sentence. “No, I will remain on watch. She-”</p><p>Josephine gave Cassandra a <em>look</em>, one remarkably similar to what she gave Yvette when she decided to try and get out of her lessons or when Antoine tried to steal another portion of dessert. Cassandra agonised for a moment under Josephine’s gaze before finally conceding with a huff. “Very well. I shall rest for a while. But at any sign of Solas I wish to be notified at once.”</p><p>They all agreed easily enough. With one last concerned look at their sleeping leader, Vivienne and Cassandra left the room, hopefully to go rest until morning.</p><p>Watching them leave, Josie furrowed her brows in concern. “Would you like me to stay with her? You too could use some rest Leliana. You haven’t slept fully since before the battle.”</p><p>Leliana dropped into the chair by Celia’s bedside, crossing her legs and letting her chin rest on her palm as she looked at her oldest friend. “No Josie. I doubt I would be able to rest even if I wanted to. I shall remain here to watch over our Inquisitor. She will not come to any harm or be left unguarded. I swear it.”</p><p>Josephine smiled slightly, placing her hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “I know, <em>piccolo uccello canoro</em>. Would you like me to send for some tea? Or something for you to eat before I retire?”</p><p>‘<em>Ever the caregiver</em>’, Leliana thought with a rush of affection. “A cup of honeyed wine would be appreciated, thank you.” Leliana knew that no matter what she had said Josephine would have sent her something up anyway.</p><p>The Antivan gave her shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before she also headed for the stairs, giving Celia a look filled with anxiety before she did.</p><p>Sighing deeply, Leliana slumped forward in her chair, bringing her hands to her face as she rubbed her eyes with exhaustion. She was tired, but just as she had told Josie, she would not have been able to rest no matter how exhausted she was. There were too many thoughts swirling in her head. And all of them revolved around the sleeping Inquisitor before her.</p><p>“Oh Celia... What have you gotten yourself into?” She whispered, letting her eyes trace the new face of a woman she was beginning to believe would find herself in the middle of every strange and dangerous event thrown their way.</p><p>In some ways she was not surprised that it was Celia who had insisted to drink from this Well of Sorrows. It was just the kind of dangerous and reckless thing they had come to expect from their Inquisitor. That did not mean her reasons were usually foolish, but until Celia awoke and explained her explanation to them in full, Leliana could only guess as to what she had been thinking in agreeing to consume such an unknown entity. That is, if the Inquisitor regained control over her mind.</p><p>These voices in her head concerned her greatly. Celia had looked half possessed earlier, whispering and muttering half formed words to herself, seemingly unaware that there had been others in the room with them. Who was to know if the younger woman would be able to control or understand these voices? Cassandra had claimed that the Well possessed the knowledge of the ancient elves, and who knew what terrible and forbidden lore they were attempting to impart on their very human Inquisitor.</p><p>‘<em>Not so human anymore</em>’ she thought, parsing her eyes over newly pointed ear tips. Whatever that Well had done to her, it had transformed her without and within. Her metamorphosis was hard to deny, and Leliana had no idea how they were going to be able to present Celia to the Inquisition without the Chantry espousing cries of heresy and blood magic. It was something she would need to discuss with Vivienne and Josie in the morning, they could not hide Celia away for much longer before it became noticed. They had been fortunate to have gone undiscovered for as long as they had. The Spymaster knew Josie paid the servants well for them to keep their silence, but that would not last for much longer.</p><p>The only silver lining to this entire situation was that the Spymaster trusted Celia with this power. She knew that the younger woman would share all she could with the Inquisition when (and if) she was able to. If <em>Morrigan</em> had drunk, then they would have had to have relied on her interpretation and whatever she chose to tell them. It no doubt infuriated the apostate to have been denied her wishes, she thought with some measure of vindictive satisfaction.</p><p>Morrigan may have assisted them so far, but she was always a woman acting on her own self-interest. She may not have abandoned them in Denerim for the reasons previously thought ten years ago, but she was not to be underestimated. No one made their way into the Orlesian Courts without bloodshed, and no one made it to Celene’s side without learning how to enact their will through deception. Trusting the woman would be a fool’s errand and lead only to disappointment and betrayal. Leliana would hate for Celia to be left in the same place that Lyna had been ten years before because she had trusted a woman that she should not have.</p><p>“The Left-Hand misses a woman with two different names…" She jumped in her seat.</p><p>The strange young man still sat on the arm of the chaise lounge, swinging his legs back and forth, tapping his foot to a rhythm only he knew. How she had not noticed him before now she didn’t know.</p><p>“What did you say?”</p><p>“Her name is different now. Inquisitor. The old name slips away, further each time. She's glad you're here."</p><p>She peered at him for a moment, but he seemed content to just sit there rocking back and forth. “Can you sense her?” she asked.</p><p>He nodded, the sides of his hat moving almost comically so with the movement. “Yes. She is cold, caught but calm. Swept away in a sea of sensation yet grounded in solitude.” He gazed at her with his large eyes that almost seemed to look straight through her.</p><p>She was stopped from thinking on that further when Celia mumbled, “Halam’shivanas... Halam’shivanas.” The redhead pressed forward in her chair, watching as eyes moved rapidly behind closed eyelids and head twisted from side to side as if to shake someone’s hold. But that was all she said, as her body relaxed into seeming peaceful rest once more.</p><p>A hand slipped out from underneath her blankets and Leliana watched it for a moment, her heart beating loudly in her chest. The hand was small, unadorned with rings or other such jewellery. Long thin fingers curled delicately and for a fleeting moment she desired to hold that hand in reassurance.</p><p>She shoved the impulse aside violently. She must be more tired than she thought, as this was the second time today she had felt her emotions flood forth. She settled for pressing her chair closer and resting her hands just <em>beside</em> the Inquisitor’s.</p><p>With Cole humming some tune she vaguely recognised, she prepared herself for a long night, her mind a cacophony of thoughts which would not be silenced any time soon.</p><p>
  <em>Please Maker, let Solas arrive back soon.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!</p><p>I had great difficulty in making the scene in Skyhold flow as well as I wanted it to and I may still go back and edit it later, but for now this is what I have. I reused some of Cole's dialogue from Trespasser and the base game so I hope that was not too jarring :D</p><p>I am already planning and working on the next but since University started back up today I will have less time to work on this story. I will try to update as fast as possible but these chapters are longer than anything I have ever written and I want the quality of this to fanfic to remain. </p><p>As usual, kudos, comments and any constructive feedback are always welcome! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Summons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Celia drank from the Well of Sorrows and now must live with the consequences. She may find that it is not just her appearance which has changed...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This update was only meant to be 7000 words long... but it ended up being over 15,000. Oops.</p><p>This chapter kind of got away with me. I still ended up at the same place eventually but certain scenes demanded to be written and I am but a humble servant to my inspiration. </p><p>Thank you all so much for your continued support. It really has been a gift in these times when I feel more lost than ever. &lt;3 </p><p>Just a quick FYI - I changed the colours of the Inquisition's uniform. In the Art of Dragon Age: Inquisition, it says: "The colors of the Inquisition are charcoal gray and crimson, evoking the Inquisition's ties to the Seekers, in black, and the Templars, in red." I personally just really prefer those colours to the strange green and orange combination we got in game. It isn't an important detail, but I want to avoid confusion. </p><p> </p><p>WARNING: I very briefly mention Cullen's lyrium addiction in passing. It is nothing detailed, but I know this can be sensitive for people so procede with caution. </p><p>Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Birds chirped and flew past her window, signalling the beginning of a new day. Cold, crisp air made its way into her lungs and she inhaled deeply, holding it in her chest until it began to burn. Exhaling slowly, she turned back to the pile of reports on her desk and picked up her quill once more.  </p><p>Signing off on another report she turned her focus to the next one when she heard a knock at the door. Raising her eyes to the clock on the mantle, she raised an eyebrow. It was still quite early, and she had not been expecting visitors this morning.  </p><p>“Come in!” she called.  </p><p>Quick steps and the rustling of silk fabric announced who it was before even caught sight of the lady Ambassador. Josephine came up the steps, her typical clipboard absent and instead a silver tray with what she presumed to be breakfast in her hands instead.  </p><p>“Celia! I did not expect you to be working so soon.”  </p><p>Celia waved away her concerns, putting the finished reports to the side to be sent to their respective military officers later. “I could not sleep, so I thought I would make myself useful in the meanwhile.”</p><p>Josie set the tray down on the coffee table, turning a disapproving and concerned gaze towards the Inquisitor. “Celia you <em>must </em>rest. Vivienne was very firm on that, as was Solas.”  </p><p>Celia leaned back into her chair, her hands resting under her chin as she absently watched the Antivan lay out their spread.  </p><p>“I know, but that does not mean my mind will settle enough for me to do so.” She said.  </p><p>Pouring Celia’s typical morning tea, adding in a touch more sugar than she would normally, she tutted lowly. “Would you like for me to ask Madame De Fer to send you some sleeping potions?” </p><p>Shaking her head, Celia rose from her desk, walked across and took her place opposite the other woman. Taking a small sip of tea, she sighed, letting its warmth spread through her. It seems she was perpetually cold these days. “That won’t be necessary Josie. My dreams will settle with time, and I would prefer to not risk becoming dependent on potions and other tonics for my issues.” </p><p>Taking a sip of her own beverage, Josephine cast her eyes over Celia. It was still a shock to see her new features, even weeks on from seeing them for the first time. The pointed ears were concealed underneath braided hair at the moment, but her other features could not be hidden so easily. The raised cheekbones, the pointedness of her chin and nose, the delicate slope of her neck... it was difficult at times to look away.  </p><p>Vivid green and blue eyes met hers for a moment before they moved away quickly, settling on the decorative floral relief on the teacup. It was not the first time Celia had done <em>that </em>either. It seems the woman was aware of the intensity of her new gaze and hesitated to look people in the eye as a consequence. It made a short pang of worry shoot through her heart. Celia had never lacked in confidence, meeting each challenge head on, and yet this one made her hesitate. But then this challenge was not an enemy on the field, but a reality she faced in the mirror each morning.  </p><p>Delicate hands twisted together in anxiety but stilled once Celia caught Josephine watching them.  </p><p>“If you are sure Celia. But please, if you ever need me to acquire anything for you, do not hesitate to come to me. I am only too happy to help, you know that.” </p><p>Celia smiled a little, more of a lift of the corner of her mouth than anything. “I know <em>c</em><em>aro </em><em>amica</em><em>.” </em> </p><p>They settled quietly for a moment, reaching for their food, nibbling as they listened to the birds flutter outside the window. Summer was passing and autumn would be here soon enough. It was good to absorb all of the sun's rays that they could before the frigid mountain air made it impossible to linger in the sun.  </p><p>“How did your examination with Master Solas go yesterday? He looked concerned when he passed by my office.” Josephine broke the silence.  </p><p>The Marcher stilled, chewing a slice of apple slowly before swallowing. “He could find no way to restore my former appearance. The Well appears to have imbedded itself deeply, much like the Anchor. He was concerned, but he has other things to worry about outside of my changed ears. I told him to return to his previous work.” </p><p>Josie furrowed her brows and took another sip of tea. Despite Celia’s almost blasé countenance, she was not so convinced the Inquisitor was as unaffected by her transformation as she liked to portray. The flinch every time she brushed her hair away from her face, the avoidance of mirrored surfaces and perhaps the most concerning of all, the way she had locked herself away in her room for much of the last few weeks.  </p><p>Josie did not claim to possess Leliana’s skills in reading people, but she knew a thing or two, and everything she saw told her Celia was portraying a face that did not reveal the full story.  </p><p>“I am sorry to hear that... Do you intend to continue searching for a way, or...” </p><p>Biting her upper lip, Celia shook her head. “No. I believe that trying to search for a way to undo <em>this</em>,” she gestured largely to her body, “will be an exercise in futility. The search takes away resources from Inquisition efforts elsewhere. For all intents and purposes, this is what I look like now.” </p><p>“Inquisitor-” </p><p>“We have bigger issues than my ears Josie. I promise, I’m <em>fine.”  </em> </p><p>Reluctantly, Josephine dropped it. Celia was as stubborn as Leliana at times, she thought in frustration (and with no small amount of fondness). So concerned about the Inquisition that they both often forgot that their wellbeing was integral to the very fabric of the organisation. The Inquisition was large enough now that they could spare some researchers for their private concerns, but their pride would not allow such conduct. </p><p>“If you are sure... Mother Giselle has asked me to remind you in the meanwhile that her services are available if you need a listening ear.” The Antivan nibbled at a slice of toast, humming slightly at the tartness of the jam.  </p><p>“Mother Giselle is very kind. I will endeavour to remember her offer.” Celia’s tone told the diplomat that the Inquisitor had <em>no </em>intention of seeking out the revered mother. The older woman proved a comforting presence for many but in all the time Josephine had known her, Celia had never mentioned finding comfort through prayer.  </p><p>“Do you intend to join me this afternoon to meet with the dignitaries from the Southron Hills? I know the Arl and Arlessa Neruda are eager to meet you?”  </p><p>Even as she extended the offer, Josephine knew she would be declined. Celia shook her head, fiddling with the handle of her teacup distractedly. “I’m afraid I will have to pass. I have several reports that I must finish before the day is out. You know how it is with paperwork...” </p><p>Finally having enough of Celia’s avoidance of the real concern at hand, Josephine firmly placed her teacup on the breakfast tray, the slight clatter causing the blonde’s eyes to finally meet hers. “Inquisitor, you cannot remain here for the rest of eternity. It has been over a week since you left this room for more than a few hours at a time. Your absence has not gone unnoticed.” </p><p>Celia slumped; thin shoulders rolled forward as her mouth turned down at the corners. “I know.” She said lowly.  </p><p>Softening at the obvious distress Josephine asked, “Is this about your companions’ reactions?”  </p><p>The Inner Circle had arrived a few days after herself and Leliana had returned to the Keep. Solas had travelled ahead of the main army with Scout Harding who had been drafted to serve as his protection detail. His safety had been paramount to ensuring Celia made a full recovery, so no chances had been taken. The others however had travelled behind with some of their forces. By the time they arrived, Celia had been awake and lucid, if quiet, for several days.  </p><p>Solas’ added expertise meant that Vivienne and Dorian had been sure that the voices in the Well had not overpowered the Inquisitor’s mind. Together they had woken her, fed her tonics that kept her relaxed as they slowly and methodically examined her mind, checking her memory and comprehension.  </p><p>It had been agony waiting to hear their diagnosis. The enchanted sleep seemed to have done her some good, as she was more lucid her second time waking, but she remained weak.  </p><p>Headaches and nausea had resulted in a small appetite and getting Celia to eat had been a challenge in and of itself. All of them had failed to convince her to eat until Leliana stepped in. The Spymaster had gone to Cook personally, requested a tray and then took it to Celia’s quarters, not leaving until she had consumed at least half of what was on her plate. A few more times of this, and Celia had gotten the message. Leliana spoke nothing about what she did to convince the stubborn woman to eat, but Josie and Cassandra had simply breathed a small sigh of relief that she was recovering at all.  </p><p>When the rest of Celia’s companions had arrived, she had largely gained control over her mind, no longer calling out in responses to voices only she could hear. Vivienne had insisted that she remain in bed for a few more days however, and Dorian, more protective than ever over his friend, had made it so that Celia did little more than raise a finger in the meantime.  </p><p>Hearing of the Inquisitor’s ‘ill-health’ her friends had rushed to see her, and the resulting reactions had... not been as <em>encouraging </em>as they could have been.  </p><p>Sera had promptly pulled an arrow against the Inquisitor, with Cassandra quickly stepping between the hysteric elf and their bedridden leader, talking her down from firing it. Josie had had to stop Leliana from pulling a knife on the elf, knowing that the redhead had been tense ever since Celia had woken. The Spymaster had taken extra precautions with Celia’s safety in the few days since they had made their way back to the Keep, and seeing an arrow pointed at her charge had not helped her already exhausted friend. Josephine had managed to decipher the words “arse”, “demons”, “frigg” and “shit” before Sera left the room, rushing down the steps so fast it was a miracle that she had not tripped down them.  </p><p>The Iron Bull had merely raised an eyebrow, and despite his calm outward demeanour Josephine had sensed a quiet unease. Bull made it no secret that he had a hard time trusting magic and what Celia had consumed was magic in its purest (and most dangerous) form. No one was still quite sure what to make of the elves they had found in the Arbor Wilds, so no doubt thoughts of demons and possession raced through the Qunari’s mind. Once he knew that the Well’s power had to have been consumed by either Celia or Morrigan, he had voiced his approval, but it was still with a trepidation that was to be expected of someone raised as he had been. He had wished her well but had also left the room quickly.  </p><p>Varric was perhaps the most tempered, giving Celia a look over before releasing a heavy sigh as he collapsed into a chair. “There always has to be some weird shit with you, doesn’t there?”  </p><p>It had not been long after that when Celia’s presence at Skyhold was announced to the wider Inquisition. They could not have hidden her for much longer as rumours were bound to begin to swirl over the fate of their young leader. Leliana had instructed her agents to give word of Celia’s victory over Corypheus at the temple, spreading stories of her acquisition of power at great personal sacrifice.  </p><p>They had struggled for days to try and come up with an explanation for Celia’s transformation. There was a delicate tightrope to walk, as any mention of Mythal or the other Elven gods was sure to bring down the ire of the Chantry on them, and any mention of the Well itself would no doubt incite cries of blood magic.  </p><p>In the end, they had settled for a vague story with a mixture of truth and fabrication. After all, Celia <em>had </em>consumed great power at a high cost to herself. With a little suggestion that the ancient elves in the Temple willingly surrendered power to Celia after witnessing her worthiness (not an outright lie from Celia and Dorian’s account of events) it was merely a matter of twisting this idea further and forgoing all mentions of supposed murdered deities.  </p><p>With their talented Spymaster spreading a few different alternatives of this tale, the truth became a matter of circumstance, as each person had their own version of events of what had happened that day in the forest.  </p><p>Whatever senior members of the Chantry remained still grumbled, but with Empress Celene confirming Celia’s worthiness of such power and expressing her support for the Inquisition<em> regardless of Celia’s ear shape </em>most of the nobles had been placated. (Or at the very least, knew to keep their mouths shut unless they wanted to be regarded as opposing the newly restored Empress, who was conveniently having her own purge at court as she routed out the last of Gaspard’s supporters.) </p><p>It had been a hectic few weeks, and in the midst of the maelstrom, Celia remained solitary. Leaving her room for only a few hours a day and keeping away from populated areas. She had retreated largely from public life. Josephine was reassured only in that Leliana kept a very close eye on Celia and Cassandra had insisted on seeing her every day for some light training, helping her adjust to her new physique.  </p><p>“Celia... I-” </p><p>“They looked at me like I was a stranger. They were afraid, did you see it? The fear in their eyes when they looked at me... I terrified them.” Celia said quietly, as she bit her lip harshly. </p><p>Josephine sighed, and reached across the small table to hold one of Celia’s small hands in hers. The leather glove was soft in her palm. “I think they are terrified of losing you. Of losing their leader, their friend.”  </p><p>“But they haven’t lost me. If anything, I feel like I’ve lost them. I make decisions that are dangerous but necessary. Necessary for everyone and yet... every time I do so, it makes them more afraid of me.”  </p><p>Squeezing her hand, Josephine tried to find the words to describe the awe Celia inspired. Celia Trevelyan was such a small person, standing barely at the Antivan’s shoulder and yet she dominated the room with her magnetism. Able to command legions of soldiers with nary a flinch whilst also able to wield her wit in ways that ensured she came away from diplomatic meetings knowing she had gained ground. The Inquisitor preferred peaceful solutions but had demonstrated a talent for violence that was jaw dropping in its intensity. She was a tapestry of contradictions; Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed. Celia’s house motto was an apt description of her.  </p><p>When she had first met the younger woman back in Haven, she hadn’t an inkling of just how much Celia would change the world. She had had no idea of how much Celia would come to mean to all of them in just a few short months.  </p><p>At the time she was just another young noble who had found herself in the unenviable position of possessing the Mark on her hand and someone who seemed to be the solution to all the world's problems. With every rift closed, the Herald provided them more and more hope until it became a certainty that they<em> would </em>succeed, as anything else was just impossible.  </p><p>Then the attack on Haven happened and they were all forced to grapple with the reality that their Herald was not as indestructible as she appeared.  </p><p>Josie remembered the tears she had shed as she struggled up the snowy mountainside with the rest of the survivors. She had mourned for the younger woman who had been nothing but determined to help them fix the mess they found themselves in. She had always been so polite to Josephine, knowing the Montilyet’s through her own family connections and glad to find someone who knew her old world, no matter how little. They had both shared a cup of tea on cold winter mornings, passing at first polite small talk before truly coming to like and respect each other. Despite being a few years Celia’s elder, Josie had sensed a heavy cloud hanging over the other woman that made he feel much older than she was. It had served to make her more determined than ever to do her very best for the Inquisition.  </p><p>Just when she had resigned herself to say a little prayer to the Maker, Cassandra had cried out from where she had sat beside her by the fireplace. Cassandra had dashed forward, racing up the mountainside as fast as possible and just managing to grasp Celia by the shoulders to stop her falling face first into the snow. Trevelyan had survived and the knowledge of that had made the tears flow all over again.  </p><p>It had been a miracle. A sign from the Maker that Andraste truly had blessed Celia Trevelyan. There was no other explanation that would explain her finding her way back to them in the face of both Corypheus and the snowstorm.  </p><p>The Inquisitor had suffered severe hypothermia and would have no doubt lost some fingers if Vivienne had not been there to heal the damage caused by frostbite. The court enchanter, Dorian and Enchanter Fiona had spent hours by the noble’s side, slowly heating her body back up and fixing the numerous burns and abrasions she had suffered from her escape.  </p><p>The reality had slowly hit them once again as Celia recovered. They had been an Inquisition with nowhere to go. Josie was not proud over how splintered they had become in their moment of crisis, but then Celia came again, limping and wrapped in as many furs as she could handle, grappling them all back together again. The hymn they sung had just been another moment of unity, a moment nobody other than Celia could have inspired.  </p><p>Cassandra had been right: she was exactly what they needed, when they needed her.  </p><p>Her ascension to the role of Inquisitor had never been contested. Celia Trevelyan had closed the Breach, travelled to a dark future, foiled the plans of a Tevinter Magister and then dropped a mountain on herself... She was a leader. It was in her very being to help and she did it with such grace it was a wonder she had not already been a diplomat or military general before she came to the Conclave.  </p><p>It had only been when she had planned to send a missive to Celia’s family, informing them of their new location and their daughter’s position in their organisation, when she had learned of Celia’s siblings. She had approached the Inquisitor asking if she wanted her to say anything specific in her message when Celia had frozen. Her eyes had glazed over before something terrible flashed across her face for a brief moment. Celia had taken the message from her hands and quietly, but firmly, asserted that she needed to add several things to the message. Josie had of course agreed, she was not going to gatekeep Celia from her own family, but she was disturbed by what she had seen.  </p><p>A quiet word with Leliana had confirmed her suspicion and Josie had felt her heart break all over again. To have lost her family so tragically... and all at once... it defied imagination. As much as she complained about her own family, Josie didn't know what she would do if they all just disappeared one day. She had looked for their names and had been shocked to discover she had even known one of Celia’s brothers.  </p><p>Benedict Trevelyan had accompanied his father and great aunt to a merchant gathering that Josie had attended years ago. He had been rather infatuated with her if she remembered correctly. All blushing cheeks and stammered compliments. She could not claim to have known him well, but it was a shock to find out he had died in the blast.  </p><p>She had lit a candle that evening with her evening prayers, trying to ignore her guilt over her ignorance.  </p><p>Unable to just do nothing, Josie had quietly cornered Celia the next day and offered her sincere condolences, embracing the woman in a bone crushing hug when the blonde’s eyes had teared up and a quiet whisper of thanks was given. She still remembered the shuttering breaths taken against her neck as the woman before her tried to withhold her emotions.  </p><p>Josie had known in that moment that she would forever be in awe of Celia’s strength. To have lost so much in such a short span of time and to continue to fight against impossible odds...  </p><p>“Celia, you could <em>never </em>be a stranger to us. Who you are has not changed, no Well or Anchor could ever achieve such a thing. I will not lie and say that you don’t sometimes make decisions that terrify me, but they scare me because they  more often than not risk your life. We need you, not just as our Inquisitor, but as our <em>friend.</em><em>”  </em> Josie smiled warmly, squeezing the hand she held tightly. "We also both know that you are a person who commands no small amount of power. You are capable of anything and that scares people. But I trust you to use that power in ways that will change the world for the better. Everything I have seen up until this point has shown me this to be true. Others would have used the Inquisition to better their own position, but you never have. Trust me, I am no stranger to those who are self-serving, and you don’t even come close to them.” Celia smiled at her; eyes still sad but the fog which had clouded them lifted slightly.  </p><p>“Thank you,” she whispered sincerely, “I never want you to think I don’t appreciate your friendship.” </p><p>Sitting back and taking up her teacup again, Josie nodded her head, “I could never think that.”  </p><p>Letting the atmosphere calm once more Josie felt her heart burst with pride when Celia finished her tea, crossed her hands over her bent knee and said, “So... tell me about this Arl and Arlessa Neruda.” </p>
<hr/><p>“Again!” Cassandra barked, as she charged at the Inquisitor once again.  </p><p>With a quick athletic roll backwards, Celia avoided the overhead attack. Her heart raced in her chest as her breast rose quickly with the added exertion. Spinning her dagger in her right hand, she lunged towards the warrior, aiming for the weak spot at the exposed shoulder.  </p><p>The Seeker was not fooled, pivoting so that Celia’s attack was intercepted by her shield. With a grunt they both retreated, eyes looking for a weakness as they circled the other.  </p><p>Celia twirled her daggers in her hands, feeling the corner of her lip lift in exhilaration. Cassandra’s focus was ever diligent, not letting external factors distract her as she felt a bead of sweat drip from her hairline and down the side of her cheek.  </p><p>Their pause was only temporary as without a word they jumped back in, dodging, parrying, thrusting and lunging when opportunities presented themselves.  </p><p>With a loud grunt Cassandra aimed at Celia’s torso, only to have the smaller woman deftly deflect the attack with a clever flick of her wrist. Pressing her advantage, Celia rushed forward into the Seeker’s guard, taking Cassandra by surprise with her aggression and kicked her foot out to hit Cassandra’s exposed knee. The kick connected; and the Seeker let out a quick curse as she attempted to right herself on unsteady feet. </p><p>Sliding forward, Celia attempted to separate the Nevarran from her small shield but at the last second Cassandra raised it, deflecting the attack with gritted teeth. Retreating once more they again circled each other, oblivious to the gathered soldiers who relished the chance at seeing the Inquisitor and Hero of Orlais duel one on one.  </p><p>“Come on Cass! Stop holding back!” Celia called, grinning as her sparring partner huffed a breath.  </p><p>The Seeker tightened her grip and rushed forward. Celia ducked as the sword swung above her head, feeling the whoosh of air rustle her hair. She continued to dodge, not wasting the effort to parry all the attacks as Cassandra’s superior strength ensured that that would prove futile. She danced around the sword tip, twisted her body this way and that to avoid the blows aimed at her. </p><p>Feeling another attack, Celia dropped one of her daggers to the shock of the crowd who gasped. Ducking, she grabbed one of the small throwing knives from her boot and flung it towards the Seeker, deliberately aiming so it went wide.  </p><p>Cassandra’s eyes followed the blade, brow furrowed from the poor throw but the reason as to why quickly revealed itself. Celia, still crouched, picked up her dagger from the ground agin and rushed the distracted warrior. Attacking at increasing speeds, the Seeker was forced to step backwards under the assault.  </p><p>The clang of steel and the thud of wood rang out loudly as Cassandra and Celia found their footing again. The crowd could only watch in awe as Celia managed to evade every attack sent her way, seeming to know instinctually where she would be attacked from next.  </p><p>Despite the speed of Celia’s attacks, Cassandra was an impenetrable wall, accepting the blows and shrugging them off. Her daggers were not the ideal weapon to have when faced against a shielded opponent, but she had the advantage of mobility. Cassandra’s shield may offer her protection, but it ensured she was restricted to mostly reacting to blows, rather than giving them. </p><p>It continued that way for a few moments before they backed off again.  </p><p>Panting and beginning to feel the ache from their sparring, Celia clenched her jaw and moved forward once more. It had been a long time since a fight had lasted this long and she could feel her calves burning.  </p><p>Suspecting the feint before it happened, Cassandra used her shoulder to add extra weight to her shield bash, which forced Celia back. The shove was powerful enough that it caused the Inquisitor to fall on her back, letting out an “oomf” as the air was harshly pushed from her lungs.  </p><p>The crowd reacted loudly as coin passed from one hand to another as they bet on the match. Some were already groaning as the Inquisitor remained on the ground.  </p><p>Celia lay immobile, and Cassandra hastily dropped her shield, concern washing over her as her friend still did not move. Dispensing of her sword with a clang, she hurried over to the sprawled-out Inquisitor.  </p><p>As she came up on Celia’s left side, she was struck dumb when the Inquisitor suddenly jerked her legs out with a cry, kicking her own feet out from underneath her. Feeling her instincts kick in from years of training, Cassandra rolled backwards giving a grunt as the crowd roared to life once again.  </p><p>As she looked up, a handful of dirt was thrown in her face making her naturally raise her arm to protect her eyes. Winded, Cassandra coughed as she went to stand only to have one blunted dagger pressed against her throat and the other pressed firmly into her spine, effectively paralysing her.  </p><p>“Do you yield?” Celia asked, panting from behind her.  </p><p>Knowing she could not simply throw Celia over her shoulder due to the dagger aganinst her throat, she admitted defeat.  </p><p>“I yield!” She conceded, feeling her leg twinge from the earlier kick.  </p><p>The soldiers around them burst into cheers. Letting her eyes sweep the area Cassandra felt her own lips pull upwards in wry amusement. It was good to know they had put on a good show.  </p><p>The blunted daggers were removed, and Celia came around to her front, extending a hand to help the older woman off of the ground.  </p><p>Raising an eyebrow at the younger woman, Cassandra asked, “What was <em>that?” </em> </p><p>The Inquisitor gave a cheeky grin. “What?”</p><p><em>"That!” </em> </p><p>"I had not conceded! It is not my fault you willingly dropped your weapons. The fight is not over until all parties admit as such.” Celia panted, inspecting both practice weapons in her hands for permanent damage.  </p><p>“We both know that a real fight would never have allowed for such theatrics.” Cassandra laughed, winded but appreciative of the hard work out.  </p><p>“We both know that if this was a real fight, I would have had you on your back before you even drew your blade.” Celia winked, looking out at the soldiers who still formed a ring around them.  </p><p>Letting out a bark of laughter, Cassandra picked up her discarded weapons. Trust a rogue to fight dirty. Dusting herself off, she sipped from the water skin offered by Celia.  </p><p>“Alright recruits! Back to work with you! Entertainments over!” Celia called, waving away their complaints with a small smile.  </p><p>Accepting the compliments of some of the officers who had watched from the crowd, she waved them off politely. However, just as she was about to turn back to Cassandra she froze.  </p><p>The Seeker, wiping the sweat from her forehead, looked up in confusion when Celia stood stock still and followed her line of sight until she too felt herself freeze and her dark brows furrowed furiously.  </p><p>Standing in the crowd wearing the standard charcoal grey and crimson issue Inquisition gear stood Rainier. His beard had been shaven, so she hardly recognised him, but his wild chestnut hair was the same and gave him away.  </p><p>He stood bashfully, hands at his side (where she quickly noted no sword hung from his hip, as was typical). No soldiers stood as his guard and this made anger flash through her. Celia’s instructions had been crystal clear.  </p><p>“What do you want?” The Seeker spat.  </p><p>Rainier looked away from her quickly, seemingly avoiding both her and Celia’s gaze. Celia had still not moved.  </p><p>“That was a good fight Cassandra.” He said finally.  </p><p>“<em>Seeker </em>Cassandra, if you must address me.”  </p><p>Rainier flushed. “Seeker Cassandra-” </p><p>“But I would rather you not address me at all.” She interrupted.  </p><p>He shuffled his feet like a child who had been scolded. His ears were a bright red and he cleared his throat as if something was stuck in it.  </p><p>“Such spite is beneath you Seeker Cassandra.” he mumbled, letting out a quiet sigh.  </p><p>Fury ignited in her veins and she stormed towards him, the urge to throttle him rearing within her. “Is it?” she spat. “What do you know of me? Even less than we know of <em>you </em>.”  </p><p>“I-I wasn’t...” he stammered.  </p><p>“You have no right to determine what is beneath me. Not now, not ever.” She stood face to face with him, hoping he saw the disgust she felt for him in her eyes.  </p><p>He gulped, finally appearing to understand the danger he faced. His chin dipped and his voice lowered even further.  </p><p>“Yes Seeker. I only meant-” </p><p>“<em>Where </em>are your guards?” Celia finally spoke. She had not moved from her spot, but her nostrils flared as her cold eyes flashed.  </p><p>Rainier didn’t answer. Whatever bravery he had mustered which made him talk to Cassandra evidently vanished at the sight of the Inquisitor.  </p><p>“I said, <em>where are your guards? </em>My instructions were absolutely clear.”  </p><p>“I don’t know Inquisitor.” </p><p>“You don’t know.” Celia drawled sardonically, poison practically dripping from her mouth. </p><p>Rainier flinched, wisely choosing to keep his lips shut tight.  </p><p>“What are you doing here? I was under the impression that you were assisting Researcher Minaeve and Enchanter Fiona by transporting deepstalker intestines and gurgot stomach lining to the mages in the North tower for research?” Celia crossed her arms, feet shoulder width apart as her chin raised imperiously.  </p><p>Rainier nodded quickly. “I was! I mean- I am!” </p><p>“Then what are you doing in the <em>training grounds?”</em></p><p>"I was moving some boxes and saw the men gather. I thought I would...” he trailed off awkwardly.  </p><p>Cassandra scoffed. “You thought you would take advantage of the Inquisitor’s mercy and test your limits. The Inquisitor kept you here in the Keep, despite her own misgivings. If it had been up to me, you would not be here.” </p><p>Celia shook her head incredulously. Glancing around the training yard, she saw that most of the soldiers had disappeared but by the stables she glanced upon a familiar elf.  </p><p>“Heir! Can you come here a moment?”  </p><p>The dalish elf sauntered over, daggers at her hip swaying. Celia knew her old trainer had at least twelve other daggers on her person (at least, that was the number Celia had last counted. She imagined the elf kept even more of them hidden somewhere) and felt hollow amusement over how intimidated she had been of the stoic elf the first time she had met her.  </p><p>“<em>Anetha </em><em>ara </em>Heir. I apologise for disrupting your day. Would you be so kind as to escort this...” she struggled, “<em>man </em>to Knight Captain Rylen’s office? He will understand why.”  </p><p>Heir paused as her eyes locked on Celia at the casual elven which had passed through her lips. Celia held her gaze unflinching, already feeling the assassin’s eyes trace her new face. Her slightly pointed ears were hidden by her hair, but she could already feel Heir’s comprehension. Her transformation was still a surprise for many.  </p><p>The elven woman eventually nodded. As she passed her, Celia lightly held her upper arm and said lowly so that only they could hear, “Once done, can you see to it that Sister Nightingale is informed?”  </p><p>Heir raised an eyebrow but again nodded in agreement. A woman of fewer words Celia had never known. Dipping her head in gratitude Celia whispered a quiet, “<em>M</em><em>a </em><em>serannas</em>.” </p><p>With that, Heir stared at Rainier until he realised his dismissal. He looked at them both desperately but quickly realised he was not wanted and staying any longer would probably chance his life. With a hunched back he turned away, extremely aware of the assassin at his back and the<em>other </em>assassin standing beside the Seeker.  </p><p>Cassandra turned towards her friend and touched her shoulder lightly when Celia’s eyes did not leave Rainier’s back.  </p><p>“Celia?”  </p><p>“I’m fine,” Celia responded, feeling blood rush in her ears. Her earlier exhaustion was gone and was replaced instead with a quiet weight in the bottom of her stomach as her instincts called for her to throw a dagger at the traitor’s head.  </p><p>Realising she was clutching her training dagger in her hand, she relaxed her grip, feeling the half crescents indents left in her palm. Walking towards the bench she tossed her daggers into the weapon basket.  </p><p>Cassandra followed her movements carefully, lips pursed in concern.  </p><p>“I simply did not expect to see him.” Celia explained.  </p><p>The Nevarran nodded. From what she had overheard, Rainier had done little but shovel latrines and complete other grunt work since his trial. He was always kept away from Celia, so to see him walk around the training grounds was a surprise and not a pleasant one at that.  </p><p>“I agree. I will follow up with Cullen as to why he was not followed.” She reassured.  </p><p>The Marcher shook her head, brushing her hair away from her face. “No need. I’ve been intending to have a chat with the Commander. I will do it.”  </p><p>“As you wish... though I hope Cullen will forgive you for trailing dust and dirt into his office.” Cassandra smirked, hoping to get Celia to laugh as she had been earlier.  </p><p>Celia looked at her friend in confusion before looking down in realisation. The knees of her trousers were covered in dirt and her white blouse was coming untucked. She could feel the sweat stains that had formed from their sparring match and imagined her back was probably in a similar state from her fall in the dirt as well. She winced when she imagined Vivienne’s disapproval in letting herself be seen in such a state.  </p><p>She huffed a laugh, brushing herself down as much as she could but knew it would prove futile. “I’m sure he’s seen worse.”  </p><p>Cassandra smirked slightly, knowing her own appearance was no better. “It was a good fight. You have come a long way with those daggers.” She complimented. When Celia had joined the Inquisition she couldn’t use a dagger for anything more than spreading butter on bread. Her primary weapon of choice would always be a bow, but real confrontations were not always suited to such a weapon. Training with a dagger had been deemed a necessity and Celia had risen to the challenge better than they could have anticipated.  </p><p>“Thank you. I will forever prefer my bow, but Heir would murder me if she knew I had been slacking in my drills.”  </p><p>“I’m not sure about that. Leliana would <em>probably </em>stop her.” The Seeker laughed.  </p><p>“‘Probably?’” </p><p>“If I let it slip that you accidently shot down one of her ravens for dinner, she might just let Heir carry out the hit.” Celia let out a groan, resisting the urge to face palm as her cheeks blushed a rosy, pink colour. </p><p>“It was one time! No one told me to check the birds before shooting one down.” she grumbled.  </p><p>They looked at each other and laughed, letting some of the tension drain away.  </p><p>“How did you <em>think </em>Leliana would send her correspondence if not by bird?” </p><p>Celia floundered for a moment. “I don’t know... Telepathy? She seems the type who gets her point across through sheer willpower.” </p><p>That got another chuckle out of the Seeker. “Leliana has many talents but that is not one of them as far as I can tell.” </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know. Have you seen her when she’s angry? It’s terrifying! I once swore that I would never face a scarier woman than my Great Aunt Lucille, but I stand corrected on that.” </p><p>“I imagine Leliana is much prettier than your Great Aunt.” Cassandra joked. She was slightly surprised when that seemed to draw a blush to Celia’s cheeks. Unless she was mistaken, the Inquisitor looked... Uncomfortable?  </p><p>“Much prettier.” Celia said quietly, looking down at her feet.  </p><p>Cassandra decided to let the matter go, though she did feel some fondness for the younger woman who was clearly having a challenging time controlling her<em> feelings. </em>Now she only had to find out if they were genuine or if it was merely a case of Hero Worship. Both were a distinct possibility. Celia would not be the first woman who Leliana had ensnared with her song, and she would probably not be the last.  </p><p>“Anyway,” Celia coughed. “It was a good fight; I haven’t been pushed that far in quite a while.”  </p><p>“You are fast...faster even than you were before...” The Seeker trailed off, hesitant to bring up the Temple.  </p><p>Celia’s smile dropped before it was replaced with the left corner of her mouth lifting in a weak imitation of one. “Yes... I had noticed that also. My senses are better, I knew where you would attack before you even moved in some instances. Without it, I doubt I would have evaded as many of your blows as I did.” She shrugged one shoulder in an attempted casual gesture. “I suppose that is one thing to be grateful for.”  </p><p>Cassandra did not really know what to say. Celia’s transformation was still an adjustment she was getting used to. The fear that had ran through her when the Inquisitor had unceremoniously dropped unconscious had still not dissipated entirely. The look that had come over the Herald’s face when she had made the decision to partake in that Maker cursed Well was one that she come to know very well by that point. It was the determined look of a woman who was about make a decision that was equal parts brave and stupid, and always dangerous. Despite her own reservations, Cassandra had known there was no talking Celia down from her decision when her mind had been made.  </p><p>She had watched with trepidation as the blonde woman entered the Well, half expecting the water to swallow her. She had prayed fervently to the Maker to keep her safe as Dorian had cursed in rapid Tevene beside her.  </p><p>At first, nothing had seemed to happen; the Inquisitor had drunk and stood still for a moment before she had suddenly flung her head back and screamed. The Well’s water had rushed over them as if pushed by a tidal wave of magic and prone on her back, the Inquisitor had lain on the floor of the pool. She still heard herself cry, “<em>CELIA! </em><em>Please Maker, let it not end this way!”  </em> </p><p>Their flight from the Temple had almost convinced her that nothing had changed, that all was well, and their worry had been for naught. Yet, as soon as they had passed through the Eluvian they guessed would take them closest to the Inquisition’s main camp, Celia had fallen.  </p><p>The race to Skyhold and the wait to know whether Celia would be fine had been torture. What use was a warrior for the injured? She was no healer, she was a warrior, a shield for the Inquisitor yet she never seemed to be able to take the blows. Celia was a prideful woman she knew. It was a trait that had made their friendship so solid. But her willingness to place herself in danger worried the Seeker immensely.  </p><p>“There is much to be grateful for,” Cassandra said, “only the Maker knows how thankful we all feel for your recovery.”  </p><p>“Thank you...”  </p><p>Cassandra shook her head, “There is no need to thank me Inquisitor.” </p><p>Celia raised her hand, the bandages filthy from with dirt. “Yes, there is. I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I appreciate you looking after me. I know that I worried you and I am sorry that it was necessary. I just want you to know that I am incredibly thankful that I have you all looking out for me.” Celia looked up at the Seeker, watching her cheeks flush.  </p><p>She had thought for a while on how to let Cassandra know how touched she had been to hear that the warrior had not left her side once whilst she was recovering from her... ordeal. She had already had a little gift left in the Nevarran’s quarters that she hoped she would enjoy. Varric had not been easy to convince but he could never disappoint a fan... plus, he owed her for dealing with his little copycat author problem.  </p><p>Celia stood from the bench and rested her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders. Smiling slightly, she said quietly. “Thank you, Cass. I thank the Maker every day for letting our paths cross. You are the truest friend anybody could ask for and I count myself lucky to know you.” Cassandra laughed slightly, stubbornly withholding the tears in her eyes.  </p><p>Clasping Celia’s wrists on her shoulders she raised a dark brow in amusement, “I would not count our meeting as typical, but I’ve come to expect that from you by now. We’ve gone from wanting to murder the other to being close friends... how things change.” Celia laughed at that. </p><p>“But” Cassandra continued, squeezing the wrists, “I am glad to know you as well Inquisitor. You are a true friend, and I am proud to fight beside you always. I do not have many friends, but you have come to mean much to me in the short span of time we have known each other.” </p><p>She paused for a moment but decided to be brave and voice the thought she had had for a while. “I... It has been many years since I had family I cared to have, but you have become that to me Celia. Family. Perhaps... even a sister.” Celia’s vivid eyes flooded with tears, as her throat closed up. Feeling her lip tremble slightly she launched herself at Cassandra, hugging the taller woman with all her strength. The Seeker clung to her as well, letting them both feel a part of their hearts heal slightly.  </p><p>Celia trembled as she felt her heart throb with both pain and happiness. A sister...She'd never had an elder sister before, only brothers. She barely breathed as she tried to stop herself from becoming overcome with emotion.</p><p>Cassandra had been one of the first to find about Edward, Benedict, Carlisle and Olivia. The Seeker had found her back in Haven creating a little shrine to them by the old apothecary’s hut one day and had silently joined her in prayer. It would never be a substitute for a proper funeral pyre, but it was all she could do at the time. Cassandra had later informed her of Anthony, and they had been friends ever since. They both understood what it meant to lose family to senseless violence. They both knew what it meant to move forward with the weight of that loss, the way it would be so easy to give into rage but instead trying to find purpose in helping others.  </p><p>They shared small stories together that tried to encapsulate those they had lost. The small quirks and funny little idiosyncrasies that make every person a unique entity. The small habits or manner of speech that ached with lost familiarity. Celia would never meet Anthony, but from the adoration her dear friend held for her brother, she knew he had been someone truly special. A brother who sought to make a name for himself, but a man who always had time for his little sister. A man whose convictions were resolute and steadfast. Cassandra did her brother credit, of that Celia was convinced.  </p><p>Cassandra too would never know Celia’s family. But she hoped, desperately, that the Seeker understood her better. That she found the silly stories of a younger Celia and Olivia amusing. That she too was in awe of Edward, who had competed in his first tourney at 15 and very nearly won. That she felt pride in Carlisle, who despite being smaller and skinnier than most boys his age, had trained night and day with her father to prepare him for his Templar duties. They were her family, even if they were gone, and it was a gift to be able to share them with someone who reminded her so much of them at times.  </p><p>If Celia occasionally found books of Orlesian poetry in her quarters (including one Carlisle had once gifted to her) she did not question it. Nor did she question the orange blossom soap (which happened to be the same make Olivia used to use) and the way Cook always seemed to know to add a bit of Antivan spice to her food (a habit Benedict had never been able to kick after his tour of Antiva City).  </p><p>Cassandra too did not make reference to the small blueberry pies Celia would save her if she missed dinner, or the whetstones that she would occasionally find by her equipment (made from the same stone that could be found only in Nevarra and the kind her brother had once saved money for.)  </p><p>They did not need to speak these things to understand what they meant.  </p><p>It’s unclear when professional and personal boundaries had fallen away between them. Perhaps they had never truly been professional with each other. After all, their meeting had not exactly been one between colleagues. They had been thrust together so quickly and thank the Maker they had. </p><p>One thing was certain though, they would protect the other with everything they had. They refused to let the other fall as their families had.  </p><p>Sniffling, they loosened their grip on the other, laughing slightly as they both brushed tears from their cheeks. “Well, this afternoon proved to be more emotional than I expected.” Celia said.  </p><p>“Indeed, though I have to ask...<em>Cass</em>?”  </p><p>The rogue grinned, shrugging one of her shoulders. “It suits you.”  </p><p>Cassandra seemed to consider it for a moment before she nodded in agreement. “But only in private. I dread to think of what the dwarf would come up with if he heard you.”  </p><p>That got another smile in response. “In private, agreed.”  </p><p>“But what should your nickname be? <em>Ce</em>? No, that sounds ridiculous. <em>Lia</em>? No, that doesn’t sound right either...”  </p><p>Celia only chuckled affectionately at how disgruntled Cass looked. “I’m pretty sure the person doesn’t get to choose their nickname.”  </p><p>Letting out a sound of disgust, Cassandra vowed to think on this further. Varric had failed to assign a nickname to Celia, but she would succeed where he had failed.  </p><p>Above them bells signalling high noon tolled. Letting out a sigh, Celia stretched out her shoulders, feeling the burn from her workout. She would probably need to stretch before she rested if she wished to avoid cramps.  </p><p>“Well, I best go and visit our Commander. He will no doubt have complaints about us distracting his soldiers earlier.”  </p><p>“Very well. I shall see you at dinner this evening?” Cassandra asked, expecting the answer to be no. Celia had not dined with them in public for several weeks, insisting she was too busy and having a plate sent to her quarters instead.  </p><p>“Yes, you shall.” She caught Cassandra’s shock, which the taller woman tried to suppress. She did not do a very good job of it. “Josie<em> may </em>have given me a scolding earlier. I promised her I would be there.”  </p><p>'<em>Ah, that would do it' </em>Cassandra thought. Their Lady Ambassador was not a woman to cross lightly. The Seeker may have faced her fair share of opponents, but even she was not foolish enough to cross the Antivan. </p><p>Giving each other an embrace farewell with Celia quietly whispering, “I’ll see you later... sister.” they parted ways. Celia headed towards the steps leading up to the battlements and Cassandra back to her quarters to freshen up. When she got there, she spotted the gift left on her bed. Picking up it she almost dropped it again. She would deny this until her funeral pyre, but witnesses swore they heard the Hero of Orlais...<em>squeal?  </em></p>
<hr/><p>Celia knocked firmly on Cullen’s office door. Hearing no answer, she looked up at the sun’s position. Maybe she had missed him? But no, it was exactly around the time Cullen could usually be found in his office, compiling reports from his officers before he assigned them their new duties this evening in the afternoon debrief.  </p><p>Pushing the door open and entered anyway. She half expected to not find him, but there he was, sitting at his desk, absorbed in some report in his hand. He likely hadn't even heard her knock.  </p><p>She felt her eyes widen when she caught sight of the rest of his office. Stacks and stacks of reports were piled precariously high, and some had even been stacked on the floor. She almost winced in sympathy. All of the Inquisition's military units had finally returned from the Arbor Wilds and the Commander now had to sift through each of their reports. She did not envy him.  </p><p>“Commander?” she called.  </p><p>The man jumped. “Wh- Inquisitor! I didn’t hear you enter.”  </p><p>She nodded and stood before his desk. “I gathered; I did knock. The demons of paperwork are many. I hope you are taking rests; the reports are not going anywhere.” </p><p>He heaved a breath, rubbing at the headache that was no doubt pounding behind his eyes. Celia examined his appearance, frowning slightly. He was pale, even more so than usual. The circles beneath his eyes were dark and the crimson tunic he wore over his armour seemed looser than usual. He looked exhausted. Evidently he was not taking those rests.  </p><p>She had not seen the Commander for quite a while. He always found an excuse to never be alone with her, so his dishevelled appearance took her by surprise. She worried for a moment that he may have had a relapse with lyrium but the lack of fever and bloodshot eyes reassured her otherwise. Cullen had returned to Skyhold two weeks ago, and had not suffered any injury in the forest, as far as she knew. Perhaps he was still recovering from the hard march? She ignored the little voice in her head which told her of his <em>real </em>concern.  </p><p>“I have just been reading through some of the reports from Officer Ridley. He oversaw the unit that your group stumbled across after falling out of that Eluvian in the Temple of Mythal. He recounts your collapse and subsequent evacuation to Skyhold.”  </p><p>“Oh? I shall have to thank him for keeping that quiet.” She said, feeling an underlying tension in Cullen’s voice. He folded the report in his hands, tugging at the edges with more force than necessary.  </p><p>“He recalls how you collapsed but swore that no visible injury had been suffered. You just seemed to fall out of nowhere.”  </p><p>Celia crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there a point you’re trying to get at Commander?”  </p><p>Cullen suddenly exploded, leaping to his feet which caused some glasses on his desk to rattle. Celia had to resist the urge to step backwards from the loud noises. Her ears were more sensitive now. “<em>Yes</em>. You went into that temple to find an Eluvian. Yet here we are with you telling us that it was not an Eluvian Corypheus wanted, but some Well filled with magic we have no idea the danger of!” </p><p>Celia stared at him, unimpressed. “Commander, every sign we had up until that point suggested Corypheus <em>was </em>after an Eluvian. We discussed this with Lady Morrigan and the rest of the advisors before we left for the Wilds. We all agreed, <em>including you</em>, that everything seemed to converge on that forest. Morrigan was able to confirm that an Eluvian was known to be inside it, and this was backed up with other reports found by Solas and my researchers. It was only once we found ourselves inside the Temple that we learnt otherwise.” She raised a hand to stop him interrupting her. “However, does it truly matter at this point what Corypheus’ goal was? Be it the Eluvian or the Well, his efforts were thwarted. He was denied access to both and we are left stronger because of it.” </p><p>Cullen scoffed, hand resting on the pommel of the sword at his hip. “Stronger? Inquisitor have you looked at your <em>face</em>? That Well was a source of powerful magic that we have no previous understanding of. We have no idea about what kind of damage it can do now that it is unleashed and chained to your body! It has already altered you physically, almost beyond recognition. What else is it capable of?!” </p><p>Celia vivid eyes flashed. “I have indeed ‘seen my face’ as you put it.” she spat. “I am intimately aware of the changes it has made. I see them every day in the mirror and in the reactions I get as I walk past people in the Keep. Do not presume to lecture me as to the power of the Well.” Discomfort prickled through her. She knew she looked different. She knew she scared people sometimes, with how much her transformation had changed her. But was she truly unrecognisable now?  </p><p>“You are hearing voices in your head from elves from who knows when and this is not something that concerns you? We have no idea what they have done to your mind! For all we know, they could command you to kill us all and you may not be able to disobey!”  </p><p>The Marcher bit the inside of her cheek to try to control her mounting frustration. “The voices<em>were </em>an issue; however, they have since faded. I am very much in control of my faculties Commander. It is true I did not expect the changes the Well brought, but the <em>V</em><em>ir’abelassan </em>was powerful and could not be left there.” </p><p>Cullen was undeterred by her argument, pacing behind his desk. “It was incredibly dangerous and yet you <em>s</em><em>till </em>insisted on drinking from it! Anything could have happened. You speak like them already. What else is next? You being possessed by some demon?”  </p><p><em> ‘</em><em>Ah,so that is what this is all about.'</em>Celia had to hold back a scoff. Cullen’s paranoia around magic was well known by now. Any contact with it was always discouraged by her Commander and her support for the mages at Redcliffe had ensured a tension between them even as far back as Haven. </p><p>Celia, despite what Cullen believed, did understand his hesitance. Magic<em>was </em>dangerous, particularly so for those who lacked it themselves. But his blind mistrust meant that he could never see when magic was aiding them. The healers in the infirmary had all spoken with praise for the mages under their wing, who used their talents to staunch bleeding, tackle burns and infections as well heal limbs which would otherwise have been amputated. The blacksmiths in the forge had expressed gratitude for the mages, as magic could cool and heat metals faster than any forge. Mages had spent much of their lives around books, so their library was well organised and teeming with tomes on all manner of subjects, both arcane and not. They were an asset and Fiona had clearly worked hard to make that known. Cullen could not see that.  </p><p>His Templar roots were a thorn when it came to matters of magic. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised at this verbal assault. His reaction to finding out about her transformation went about as well as Sera’s. He had looked at her as if she would combust any moment into an abomination and slaughter them all. It would have been amusing if his hand had not strayed to his sword hilt every so often.  </p><p>He has avoided her ever since, no longer willing to have in person briefings as he now sent those via messenger. It was a miracle that he attended War Council meetings, yet there he simply avoided her gaze and kept his answers to a minimum. At first, she had assumed his behaviour was petulant due to the dressing down she had given him before their departure to the Wilds. But when he kept glancing at her hidden ears, she realised what was causing the discomfort.  </p><p>“What would you have proposed Commander? That we simply leave the Well there for Corypheus to take? Let it have simply remained there as a tempting prize for the magister to take when he felt he had regained enough power? Is that truly what you would have proposed?”  </p><p>Cullen’s bloodshot eyes looked at her as he stilled from his pacing. “Of course not.” he hissed. </p><p>“Or perhaps I should have let Lady Morrigan drink? Would you feel better if the power of the Well was in the hands of a mage who owed no allegiance to the Inquisition?” She continued. </p><p>“If you had been possessed by some abomination, we have no idea the amount of damage you could have done. With that blasted Anchor on your hand and the power of that Well, anything could have happened! If you die, we lose the only means we have of winning this war!” Cullen’s frustration was palpable. Sweat beaded on his forehead as a vein bulged above his right eyebrow.  </p><p>This was an argument they had had before, and just like last time; Celia was incensed at his lack of tact. It was not <em>her </em>that Cullen was concerned for. It was the <em>Anchor</em>. He was more concerned with losing her blasted arm than her as a person. She was half convinced that if he could have cut off her hand and used the Mark without it being attached to her, he would have done so.  </p><p>“I did not become possessed, rendering such fear mongering pointless. I am not possessed by anything and have no intention of falling to a demon. Madame de Fer long ago pointed out ways in which I could defend myself from the trifle temptations offered by demons in the Fade. Do you doubt her abilities?” She cut back at him, knowing that Vivienne, Dorian and Solas had more experience in this area than Cullen. She would like to see the Commander tell Vivienne that she was incorrect. It would not go well for one of them. Vivienne had just had new furniture installed on her balcony; she would not appreciate having to have someone clean up the blood before she had even had them a week.  </p><p>Cullen changed course. “You could have destroyed the thing! You could have smashed that mirror into as many pieces as you could manage!”  </p><p>Celia finally let forth a harsh bark of a laugh. “Destroy it? Commander you truly are foolish if you think my party could have managed such a thing. That Well is older than Thedas itself. It possessed the power of <em>countless </em>immortal elven priests, priests whose very <em>essence </em>was entangled with magic. The Well could not be destroyed by my mortal hands. The chances of Abelas being able to destroy it were also highly unlikely. The most he could have done was despoil it, but even this would have cost him his life.” She shook her head. “As for the Eluvian, it is now destroyed. Corypheus shattered it by attempting to enter after us. Eluvians are not harmful. It would be like calling a door dangerous. A door is simply a door, just because one is made of magic does not mean demons linger around every corner.” </p><p>Cullen clearly did not care for her dismissal. He clenched his jaw, making the scar on his lip pull. “You forget Inquisitor, I have seen magic be-” </p><p>“<em>You </em>forget Commander, that I am not some naïve child. I understood that the Well was powerful, but I accepted the risk. I drank from the Well and must now live with the consequences. It is done. There is no use arguing about it now.” Celia could feel her anger bubble under the surface as whispers from the Well sang from the periphery of her consciousness. Cullen was a blind fool. What did he think he would gain by entering such an argument with her? The past was done and gone; they could now only move forward.  </p><p>Cullen paced towards the bookcase, resting his hands heavily on the shelf. “The problem, Inquisitor, is that this is not the first time you have blindly trusted magic.” He turned to look at her, his blonde hair dishevelled, making him appear even more mad. “Despite all of my warnings you seem blindly ignorant to the dangers it poses. You were caught in a blast that sent you to the future! Despite this, you still sided with the mages, despite the fact that the Templars would have been a much safer option. You keep company with apostates and Tevinter Magisters. You were thrown physically into the <em>Fade </em>and encountered a demon larger than any of us have ever faced! At every opportunity you treat magic as if it were some silly little trifle. <em>It is dangerous and needs to be controlled! </em>” By the end, Cullen was shouting. He still did not approach her but gestured wildly with his hands to make his point. </p><p>Celia’s voice was ice. “Commander... I will <em>not </em>discuss my decision regarding the mages any more than I already have with you. I made that choice months ago and ever since then the mages have been nothing but an asset to us. We have not had a single instance of possession among them. We have not once been required to call for Templar oversight. I trusted Fiona to lead her charges and she has done so admirably.<em>This is final.</em><em>” </em>Celia uncrossed her arms, clenching her fists by her side.  </p><p>“I am also not going to discuss Dorian, Solas or Lady Morrigan with you. Dorian is neither a Magister nor an enemy you need concern yourself with. Solas was there exactly when we needed him and has provided us with multiple boons, including this very Keep. As for Lady Morrigan, despite her appearance she has helped immensely with the Inquisition’s researchers and possesses knowledge and power in equal measure. She is here at the request of the Empress Celene, and I trust her to carry out her duties.” She locked eyes with Cullen, knowing her gaze blazed with the fury she felt.  </p><p>“I am not an <em>idiot </em>Cullen. Magic is dangerous when used incorrectly. It also can have permanent effects.” She resisted the urge to touch her face. “I am not unaware to the dangers I have been exposed to and will likely continue to come into contact with because of magic. However, I have no choice in the means by which my enemy uses to pursue their goals. Corypheus is a mage and will use magic against us. I would be a fool to not use magic to counter him when possible. I will continue to act as I must to ensure he is defeated.”  </p><p>Cullen began to pace again, this time from the bookcase to his desk and back again. It was beginning to make her feel nauseous.  </p><p>“Which is convenient,” Cullen said finally, hands once again resting on his sword’s pommel. “Every time there is an opportunity to do something reckless you do it, damned be the consequences. Someone might think you are trying to get yourself killed on purpose.” Cullen’s tone was dark, a look crossed his face which twisted his features into something truly ugly.  </p><p>“What is your point?” Celia grit out behind clenched teeth.  </p><p>“Perhaps you tire of your role, <em>Inquisitor</em>. Perhaps you tire of not receiving endless amounts of praise for every little thing you do. Perhaps you wish to shirk your duty and return to your cushy little life as a <em>noble</em>.” </p><p>Celia felt the fury which had brewed inside her snap and then roar to life. She had flung a throwing knife and had her dagger in her hand before she even knew she had drawn them. The knife was embedded in the back of the armchair to the right of where Cullen stood and she crossed the room so that she stood at the very edge of his desk, dagger held against his neck as his jaw dropped. He hadn't even seen her move.  </p><p>“<em>Y</em><em>ou </em><em>dare</em>.” she breathed, feeling the voices of the Well shout in a cacophony, hungry for blood. “You dare stand there and accuse me of shirking my duty?! You are nothing but a <em>fool </em>Cullen Rutherford. So blinded by your prejudices you cannot see the truth staring you in the face. You care for nothing but yourself and your own petty concerns. The world is not split into just mages and Templars anymore<em>. </em>Those terms are dead, just as the Circles are dead. I will see this through and will hunt down Corypheus until the end of time if I must. I will hunt down and kill every last agent of chaos who threatens our world. If I must use magic to do so, <em>then I will."</em>She kept the pressure on his throat, so when he gulped the dagger nicked him. A single drop of blood ran down his throat. He did not move to wipe it away.  </p><p>“I will get justice for the Divine, for every last mother and father who lost a child that day at the Conclave... for my <em>own </em>mother and father. I will see to it that the Venatori are wiped clean from Southern Thedas and that their slaves are freed. I will do this because it is my duty<em>. </em>Because I will not be able to rest until I have done so. Do you still wish to tell me that I am trying to avoid my role and responsibility as Inquisitor?<em>”  </em> </p><p>Cullen did not reply. She was not sure if she could have handled another remark from his mouth.  </p><p>“You may be the Commander, Cullen, but<em> I </em>am in charge. You seem to be under the impression that you are not disposable. Let me dissuade you of that notion now. You are a Templar. One of many<em>.</em> What about you is so special? Cassandra is the Hero of  Orlais and the Right Hand of the Divine. Leliana is a Spymaster who orchestrates the largest spy network ever created. Lady Josephine is a diplomat of unrivalled talent and who commands the ear of several Kings and Queens of Thedas... You are a soldier Cullen. I command <em>thousands </em>of them. I am sure any one of them would do just as well of a job as yourself.” She pressed the dagger more firmly against his throat. “I am tired of your <em>pettiness</em>. I am tired of your <em>prejudice</em><em>s</em>. I am tired of giving you orders and you thinking that they are <em>negotiable</em>.” </p><p>His dark brows furrowed. “I have always enacted your orders, even if I disagreed with them.” He finally got out, intimately aware of the silverite steel pressed firmly against his jugular. </p><p>“Perhaps. However, you still question them. You still argue with me when the opportunity for that has past. You believe yourself above my commands and that you know better simply because you are unwilling to see the world with a new perspective.” She tilted her head to the side, not letting her eyes drop from his. “You are convinced that you have always carried out my orders?” </p><p>He nodded as shallowly as possible.  </p><p>Celia bared her teeth. “Then <em>why </em>did I find Rainier walking through this Keep unaccompanied? My orders were as clear as crystal. He was to be accompanied, at all times, by a minimum of two guards.”  </p><p>Cullen’s eyes closed for a moment. His hands which were placed uselessly by his side clenched. “He was unaccompanied because <em>Sera </em>has been making the lives of those guards a living hell. They can barely get a moment’s rest before she strikes another one of her so-called pranks. She is <em>your </em>companion. Therefore, she is <em>your </em>responsibility. If she is acting against your orders, that is not under my jurisdiction.” He snarked.  </p><p>At last, she withdrew her dagger from Cullen’s throat. He raised a gloved hand and felt the damage.  </p><p>“So, you allowed a known child murderer to wander around this Keep unaccompanied because your guards couldn’t handle a few pranks? You allowed your men to act against their Inquisitor, despite the fact that many of them were in the throne room when I handed out that sentence. Such actions are beneath a military commander. How long has he been left to his own devices?” </p><p>Cullen looked away. </p><p>“<em>How long?”  </em>She pressed.  </p><p>“...A month.”  </p><p>Hatred bubbled inside her and she felt like the dragon she had defeated in the Hinterlands. Dangerous, powerful and ready to spit fire. </p><p>“A month...” she said quietly. Cullen flinched ever so slightly back from her then, her quiet anger more terrifying than if she had shouted and screamed at him.  </p><p>Celia breathed deep, trying to get her lungs to take oxygen. Her heart pounded at a rapid pace and she felt her knuckles clench white around her dagger’s hilt.  </p><p>“I will discuss this with Sera. In the meantime, I want two guards with him. <em>No excuses. </em>If soldiers cannot handle simple pranks, they cannot handle battle.” She sheathed her dagger, leaving her throwing knife in the back of the chair.  </p><p>She looked Cullen in the eyes, letting her face fall into that of the Inquisitor. “As of this moment, your position as Commander has been terminated. By tomorrow evening, I expect a list of all your senior officers to have been delivered to Josephine’s office. I will also be consulting Seeker Pentaghast as to other suitable candidates to serve as your replacement. I cannot lead this Inquisition when I cannot trust the man leading my army. You are blind Cullen. Until you learn to see the world with fresh eyes, I cannot allow you to be in a position of authority. I will continue to support your efforts to rid yourself of your lyrium addiction, as I believe it a noble cause. But if you choose to stay, know that you will be considered as just another soldier under my command. You are, of course, free to leave this Keep. I want a decision by the end of the week.” Cullen face was wrought with anger and despair, as his hands dropped to the table to keep himself upright. He let out quick harsh breaths and clenched his eyes shut.  </p><p>Celia turned on her heel and walked away. She did not flinch when something was thrown at the closed door behind her. Nor did she stop when she heard the following sobs.  </p><p>He had been warned. These were simply the consequences of him not heeding her earlier. </p>
<hr/><p>Sweat dripped from her forehead as she twisted in bed, kicking out the sheets to cool off. Blankets dropped to the stone floor but despite being dressed in only a thin chemise, Celia was clammy with sweat.  </p><p>Her head whipped from side to side in her dreams. She could feel <em>something </em>in her chest. A pressure that caused her breathing to become faster and faster until she was panting much like a dog. The voices of the Well swelled in noise before suddenly receding again, making her dizzy as she tried to make sense of what they were trying to tell her.  </p><p>She had been antsy all evening, unable to shake the feeling that something was watching her. The Well’s voices had tugged at her consciousness all through dinner, getting louder and louder, making her eat little and causing Josie and Cassandra to peer at her in concern. They could see that something was agitating her but could not find anything that would be causing the Inquisitor this amount of stress.  </p><p>Celia had begged their forgiveness distractedly as she retreated to her quarters for the night. She had collapsed on her four-poster bed, barely having the energy to change out of her eveningwear before she dropped her head on the pillow and entered into fitful sleep.  </p><p>Suddenly the Well’s voices reached a fervour pitch and she almost screamed from the pain. Then it all stopped.</p><p>“<em>Come.”  </em> </p><p>Unbidden and without conscious thought, Celia rose from the bed. Not bothering to gather a candle or put on a robe or shoes, she headed towards the door.</p><p>
  <em>She was calling.</em>
</p><p><em>"Come." </em>The voice said again. </p><p>She descended the staircase, not feeling the rough stonework leave abrasions on the bottom of her feet. Old banners which still decorated the tower walls fluttered as a draught of air blew through the windows. Despite this, she did not feel the cold. The voices of the Well engulfed her, as if she were wrapped in a sensation of blistering suns and burning frost. The voices shouted over each other, all in rejoice of something she could not understand.  </p><p>“<em>Come.”  </em> </p><p>She reached the bottom of the tower. She opened the door and found the great hall to be empty, the few candles still lit flickering a low light which did little to illuminate the way. It would not matter. She could have found her way in the dark, so familiar by now of haunting the Keep at night.  </p><p>She passed Josephine’s office and did not stop when she heard a voice call, “Celia?”  </p><p>“<em>C</em><em>ome.”  </em>The voice insisted once more.  </p><p>She turned right, headed through the door and entered the garden. “Celia!” Two voices called from behind her.  </p><p>She walked across the dirt, not feeling the soil stain her white chemise or her feet. As she went to take another step forward, her left arm was caught, and she was yanked to a stop. Hands spun her around and she came face to face with two women.  </p><p>“Celia, what are you doing? It’s the middle of the night! Where are your clothes?” Celia gazed at pale baby blue eyes without any recognition.  </p><p>“<em>COME.” </em></p><p>"Leliana, she’s freezing.” Another woman came up to her and stood beside the redhead. She stepped forward and rubbed her arms along Celia’s trying to get some warmth into her skin. The brunette shook off her wool shawl and wrapped it around thin shoulders. Celia did not feel the warmth or smell the floral perfume.  </p><p>“Celia?” The first woman said again, staring at her.  </p><p>“She is calling.”  </p><p>The two women looked at each other.  </p><p>“Celia, <em>who </em>is calling?” The first woman asked.  </p><p>“Her.”  </p><p>The redhead placed delicate hands on Celia’s shoulders, but the woman did not feel it. The voices were angry now, furious at the interruption.  </p><p>She was calling. She could not be denied.  </p><p>“Celia,” the Marcher did not respond. “Celia... do you know who we are?”  </p><p>“She is calling.”  </p><p>“Leliana, what is happening?” The second woman said, hands coming to her mouth in shock. Fear had entered her voice and Celia abstractly found it curious. She watched the twisting hands and pursed lips with little emotion. There was no time to waste. She was being called.  </p><p>The redhead, who was dressed in curious leather armour and who wore a purple cowl, did not turn away from her.  </p><p>“<em>COME!” </em>The voice boomed. Celia felt tears gather in her eyes as a whimper of pain escaped her lips. The shout echoed through her skull and pounded against her very being, which caused her to fight the tight hold on her shoulders. She needed to go! She was calling! </p><p>She could not be denied.  </p><p>The redhead stopped her movements but shifted so she was no longer resting her hands on the petite woman’s shoulders, but now holding limp, bandage covered hands in hers.  </p><p>“Who is calling you?” </p><p>How did they not understand! <em>She </em>was calling! Could they not hear her terrifying song echo through their ears? </p><p>She tried to pull away again, but once more was stopped. </p><p>Tears fell from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks as pain whipped through her chest. The Well’s power <em>pushed </em>against her breast so that she couldn’t breathe! She needed to go. NOW. </p><p>The brunette stepped forward. “Celia, <em>where </em>is this woman calling you?”  </p><p>“Beyond the door.”  </p><p>The redhead brought Celia’s hands up and held them so that they were level with their chests. She rubbed her thumb back and forth on the back of her hand.  </p><p>“Celia, you need to see a healer. Your feet are bloodied, and you’re covered in sweat and dirt. We shall take you to Vivienne, she can heal you.”  </p><p>“<em>COME!”  </em> </p><p>No no no no! They couldn’t leave! She was calling! SHE COULD NOT BE DENIED!  </p><p>Hands tried to pull her back towards the door leading to the great hall, and she desperately fought their grip. <em>NO </em>!  </p><p>Suddenly, the Well, which had sat just under her chest <em>exploded </em>and power coursed through her veins as it had never done before. It was raw power and chaos and destruction and thunderous victory! It was like being given new lungs as she seemed to take in the world anew and with eyes that until this moment, felt as if they had been blind.  </p><p>The brunette gasped, taking a step back but the redhead did not release her grip. If anything, she held on tighter.  </p><p>“Leliana, her face...” the second woman whispered.  </p><p>“<em>She must go. She is calling. She cannot be denied.”  </em>The voice that came from her throat was as rough as sandpaper. She talked with a curious inflexion, as though multiple people were talking through her at the same time. Male and female, young and old, powerful and weak.  </p><p>“What have you done with her?” The redhead demanded, eyes a blaze of furious glory.  </p><p>“<em>She knew the consequences. She is calling. She must go now.”  </em> </p><p>“I won't let you take her.” </p><p>“<em>You don’t have a choice." </em> </p><p>Before the redhead could move, Celia <em>pushed </em>against the woman’s chest with the palm of her hand, striking directly at her sternum. The strike flung the woman back several feet, as the Well swelled through her once more. The redhead braced for the fall, as she tucked herself into a roll so that she landed crouched on the balls of her feet with her hand on the ground to stabilise herself. She appeared winded, but nothing more.  </p><p>The second woman gasped and rushed towards the leather clad woman.  </p><p>“<em>COME!”  </em> </p><p>Sensing her opportunity, Celia fled.  </p><p>Light feet raced behind her and the Well swelled with power, ready to attack the impudent mortal who was delaying their host.  </p><p>The door before her was opened and she raced through, just slipping through the arm that tried to grab her once more.  </p><p>She leapt forward, embracing the cool shimmer of the Eluvian as the Well slammed the mirror shut behind her. She just caught the cry of “NO!” before it closed.  </p><p>Panting, the Well pushed her forward, deeper into the Crossroads. They were impatient, not giving her a moment to catch her breath.  </p><p>“<em>Come.”  </em> </p><p>She moved forward. She was calling.  </p>
<hr/><p>Celia did not know for how long she walked. It could have been minutes, or it could have been an age. There was no way to tell.  </p><p>She walked past mirror after mirror, some tall, short, wide and narrow. Some had decorative statues or carvings around the rims and others looked as plain as a simple looking glass. She did not look at the mirrors which lay dark. The voices warned her of their corruption, and she felt the tainted whispers that tried to lead her astray. There was only death beyond those doors.  </p><p>She kept walking for a while longer before she felt the urge to stop. The voices in her head screamed with joy but she was confused, there was nothing here!  </p><p>‘<em>S</em><em>ulahn’nehn!' </em>they called. ‘<em>Vir </em><em>sumeil</em><em>!”  </em> </p><p>Celia looked around trying to find the source of the Well’s joy but could find nothing. All she could see where mirrors.  </p><p>“Well... isn't<em> this </em>a surprise?” </p><p>The Inquisitor spun around. A tall woman sauntered towards her, hair the colour of snow, whose headpiece gave the impression of dragon horns. Raven feathers decorated her arms, and the deep burgundy colour of her bodice was akin to that of dried blood. What kept her attention however, was the bright golden colour of her eyes. They looked over her with amusement, as a smirk tugged at thin lips. She was terrifying as the Well swelled in response to her raspy voice.  </p><p>“Now now, that’s enough out of you. You’ve been loud enough for one evening.” The woman flung an arm towards her, blue light collected in her palm and gradually the voices in her head receded, fading back into the very far corners of her mind. They rested, as they knew they had succeeded in their goal and the summons had been answered. </p><p>Celia fell forward, collapsing to her knees before the stranger. The sudden absence of noise made her ears ring. The absence of the voices left her feeling bereft for a moment, the pressure which had sat in her chest suddenly gone. “<em>Ir </em><em>tel’him</em><em>.</em>” she whispered.  </p><p>The sound of a laugh made the hair on her arms stand straight up. She pushed herself sluggishly to her feet, struggling to find balance as the cuts on the bottom of her feet made her flinch. Celia frowned when she saw the ground was covered in a... blue mist? What? </p><p>She whipped her head around, seeing for the first time where she was. What had happened? She had been in her quarters! Now she was in... the Crossroads? </p><p>“That’s a matter of perspective, wouldn’t you say?”  </p><p>Her attention was brought back to the stranger who stood before her, arms casually resting at her sides as a smirk still tugged at the corner of her lip.  </p><p>“Who are you? I don’t know who you are, or what you desire of me!” Celia had no weapons or armour, and she longed for them now as felt all but naked before the... woman? Was she a woman? A demon? But demons did not linger in the Crossroads.  </p><p>The stranger tutted. “Of course you know. You drank from the Well, did you not?”  </p><p>The Well... “You...you are <em>Mythal</em>?” It was not possible! Mythal had been murdered, Abelas had said so himself!  </p><p>The woman, whose aged appearance did not match the power Celia felt radiating from her, nodded. “Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a whisp of an ancient being and she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her.” </p><p>Celia knew her eyes were wide as her head raced to understand what was happening. “Then... you carry Mythal<em> inside </em>you?” </p><p>“She is a part of me, no more separate than your heart from your chest... or that Anchor from your arm.”  </p><p>Celia stilled. She did not know what to say. This woman was an abomination by all definitions and yet... she was not. There was no forceful assumption of her body by a malevolent spirit. There was no raging fury, as was common with demons who longed to devour all they could in their new form. This woman was something she had never come across before... and that... that <em>terrified </em>her.  </p><p>“But what<em> was </em>Mythal?” The woman continued, unperturbed by her silence. “A legend given name and called a God, or something more? Truth is not the end, but a beginning.”  </p><p>Celia pulled at the fabric of her chemise as she trembled, her knees nearly buckled with the realisation of how much danger she was in. If this... woman, chose to attack, there would be no fight. There would be only ruin.  </p><p>She took deep breaths as she tried to bring her nerves under control. If this really was Mythal (and she had no real reason to suspect that she <em>wasn’t</em>) then she needed to be alert. She needed to be in control.  </p><p>‘<em>Maker, protect me now.</em>’ She thought. Through sheer willpower she slowed her heart rate, and banished the fear fogging her mind. She was Celia Trevelyan, and she would not cower before this woman.  </p><p>The stranger looked at her with intense eyes, yet for all her seeming curiosity, Celia got the impression that she was aware of every thought that fluttered through her skull. “A Herald, indeed.” A small nod in approval was granted towards her. “Shouting to the heavens, harbinger of a new age.” </p><p>“You know my title. Might I have one to address you?” Celia asked.  </p><p>“I have had many names. But you... may call me Flemeth.” </p><p>Celia did not stop her frown. “Flemeth... as in the Flemeth of Fereldan legend?”  </p><p>A white eyebrow raised in amusement. “Do you wish to recite it for me, as so many have done before you?” </p><p>The blonde shook her head. “No. After the Temple, I know to doubt any myth which presents itself as the truth. I imagine the legends surrounding you are no truer than the ones of elven legend. Perhaps there is a nugget of fact buried behind the tale, but it has been so contorted that it is unrecognizable from history.” </p><p>Flemeth’s tone was flat. “A statement more true than you may believe, Herald.” </p><p>“From the tales my companions tell, this is not the first time you have appeared to one who is destined for violence.” Celia kept her own voice as nonchalant as she could make it. Varric had told her of the powerful witch who had saved the Champion and who Hawke had later freed across the Waking Sea. There were also stories of the Hero of Fereldan being saved by the witch stood before her. </p><p>There were no such things as coincidence when magic was involved. </p><p>“I nudge history, when its required. Other times, a shove is needed.” Flemeth chuckled loudly. White teeth flashed behind crimson lips.  </p><p>“Why did Mythal come to you?” Celia asked. The woman before her appeared human enough, despite the golden eyes. What would make the spirit of a god choose a mortal human over an elf? </p><p>“For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens.” Here, Flemeth’s voice deepened, and a dark look came over her eyes. The Free Marcher felt her blood freeze in her veins. “Things happened that were never <em>meant </em>to happen. She was betrayed, as I was betrayed - as the<em> world</em> was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and <em>I will see her avenged!</em>” Flemeth had raised her arms in her fury but lowered them slowly back to her side.  </p><p>A look of exhaustion covered her wizened face, and in her expression Celia caught the tale of a thousand lives lived and lost. Of victory and defeat. Of anticipation, emancipation and crushing demoralization in pursuit of the ever-allusive goal of justice. “Alas... so long as the music plays, we dance.” </p><p>Celia let a moment pass before she spoke again. “If you carry Mythal inside you, and I drank from the <em>Vir’abelasan</em>... does that mean I now must serve you?”  </p><p>That made Flemeth laugh proper. The sound echoed through the plane of existence they both stood in, bouncing off mirrored surfaces. “Is that how you see yourself?<em> A servant?</em>”  </p><p>“No. But I am not fool enough to believe that if you truly wished something, you could not make me do it.” Celia had not felt the Well’s domination over her body until she had been freed from it. If Flemeth truly did command her to do something... she would not be able to say no. Solas’ warning rang through her head. ‘<em>You are </em><em>Mythal’s </em><em>creature now. Everything you do</em><em>, whether you know it or not, </em><em>will be for her. </em> <em>’  </em> </p><p>“No Herald. I have no desire to control your every move. I have no commands for you... not <em>yet. </em>”  </p><p>Relief flooded through her but all she would afford herself was a slight nod of the head. Celia did not let herself linger on that last sentence. ‘<em>Not yet.</em>’ Would she even know if Flemeth was lying? The answer, she knew in her heart, was <em>no.  </em>Flemeth could be lying to her and as soon as she left, take control of her once more. The voices were Mythal’s servants after all, not Celia’s   </p><p>“You have revealed yourself to me for a purpose, I imagine.”  </p><p>“Indeed.” </p><p>“What is it that you want?” she asked.  </p><p>“One thing, and one thing only. There is an ancient altar deep within a shaded wood. The voices of the Well will guide you there. Go to it, and when you do, bring your little apostate witch with you.” </p><p>“Witch?” Celia furrowed her brows. “You mean Morrigan?”  </p><p>“Bring her.” Flemeth smirked once more. “Do this, and I will offer knowledge that will assist you against Corypheus.” </p><p>Celia bit her lip. Knowledge... knowledge was what they desperately needed right now. Corypheus had not been seen since the battle in the Temple and Leliana’s people had still not found any sign as to the Magister’s lair or the location of his dragon. They seemed to come and go like mist.  </p><p>With the revelation that Corypheus could jump to Blighted bodies to revive himself, they truly had no idea how they were meant to defeat him. The Wardens had been banished from the South, but she had no way of knowing how many Corypheus had captured before their storm of Adamant. There had been Wardens in the forest, after all. She also doubted that every Warden in Southern Thedas had been in Adamant Fortress. There were bound to have been scouting groups and other parties away from its walls.  </p><p>The discovery that red lyrium was alive, corrupted by the Blight, called into question whether the Tevinter Magister even needed Wardens anymore. If red  lyrium carried enough power for his body’s restoration, then they could not simply lure Corypheus to a location devoid of Wardens. Red lyrium was <em>everywhere. </em>Operations like those found in the mines of Sarhnia may have been some of the largest, but Celia had encountered the vile stuff all across Southern Thedas. She knew from her reports that it extended even beyond that boundary. Reports from the City States, Antiva and Nevarra confirmed red lyrium sightings. There was no escaping it. </p><p>This wasn’t even taking into account his <em>dragon...  </em> </p><p>“Well then, it seems I have little choice.” she muttered ruefully.  </p><p>“Choice? There is always a choice, Herald.” Flemeth’s voice was cutting in her amusement. “But in this... you will find it very hard to disobey.” </p><p>“I thought you said you had no commands for me?” Celia retorted.  </p><p>“Think of this as... a bargain. We both benefit from this deal.”  </p><p>“What do you want with Morrigan?”  </p><p>Flemeth waved a finger at her. “Ah ah ah... that would be spoiling the surprise.” Celia did not feel reassured in the slightest. Whatever Flemeth wanted Morrigan for, Celia had no idea. The apostate was powerful, attractive, and possessed hidden knowledge, but Flemeth did not seem to lack these qualities. The white-haired woman did not say the witch’s name with resentment or love. If anything, she mentioned her name with <em>amusement.  </em> </p><p>Finally, Celia acquiesced and nodded her head in agreement to the terms. There was nothing she could do, even if she wanted to refuse.  </p><p>Turning on her feet Celia lifted her floor length chemise slightly so that she could walk faster. She desired nothing more than to be gone from this place.  </p><p>“Before you leave, Herald!” Flemeth called behind her, still stood in the same spot. A look had entered her eyes which Celia did not recognise. “A parting gift... I am not the only one who was long thought lost. Secrets linger in shadows darker than even you realise... Be careful who you trust.”  </p><p>Celia remained silent for a moment before nodding her head. “<em>Ma </em><em>seranna</em><em>s</em><em>, </em><em>Asha</em><em>’bellanar</em><em>." </em> With that, she walked away.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations (All taken from the Dragon Age Elven wiki page)<br/>Aneth ara: Greetings<br/>Ma Serannas: My thanks<br/>Vir'Abelasan: The Well of Sorrows<br/>Sulahn'nehn: Rejoice; joy<br/>Vir sumeil: We are close<br/>Ir tel'him: I'm me again<br/>Asha'bellanar: Dalish name for Flemeth. 'Woman of Many Years'</p><p> </p><p>So... that happened. </p><p>I thought it would be a quick little chapter in which we see our companions' reactions to Celia and instead we got this 15k monstronsity. I have no regrets. </p><p>The scenes with Rainier and Cullen were actually not explicitly planned. I had the framework for how those scenes could work but didn't have any intention to do it. Then I started writing and they just would not let me be. It does not disrupt my plans going forward and you all seemed to enjoy the last dressing down of Cullen, so I hope this was equally as satisfying. </p><p>I reused and repurposed quite a bit of dialogue in this chapter. I do this not to be lazy (though it does make my life a bit easier) but because it's important to me that I get an authentic feeling from these characters. That, and Cass' lines towards Blackwall are in game and they're just too good to NOT use. </p><p>This was another pretty light chapter on the Celia/Leli romance, but plot is something I simply MUST write in any of my stories and their time IS coming. I promise. </p><p>As usual, thank you all for your feedback and support so far! Any constructive criticism is always welcome, as is just general feedback &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Feels Like Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Celia worried them all last night, and Josephine finally gets a chance to confront her old friend about her recent behaviour.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone!</p><p>I did not expect to update this again so soon but I wanted to give you something before I have to stop to work on my University essays. We finally get to progress the *romance* part of this fic slightly so I hope this makes you all happy! </p><p>Thank you all for your continued support whether that be by leaving me comments, kudos or bookmarks etc! It all really helps and I adore you all for it. &lt;3</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Josephine bumped Leliana with her shoulder, making her look away from the tower she had been watching with a burning intensity.  </p><p>“Leliana, relax. You have six agents watching her quarters. She isn’t going anywhere without you knowing about it.” They strolled through the garden, breathing in the fresh vibrant scent of the flowers and the crisp afternoon air.  </p><p>“Eleven.” </p><p>Josephine halted momentarily, "Pardon?” </p><p>“I have eleven agents watching all entry points into and out of the tower.” The redhead explained, not looking back at her friend as she continued walking.  </p><p>“Does the Herald know?” </p><p>Leliana shook her head, scoffing slightly. “Of course not. But after last night, she’s not in any position to argue with me.”  </p><p>For once not protesting about the invasion to the Inquisitor’s privacy and the blatant paranoia of her actions, the Ambassador only hummed, walking so they continued side by side again.  </p><p>Their little midnight nightcap had turned from a quiet mellow evening sat in front of a roaring fire, to chasing down their Inquisitor to stop her from entering a magic mirror in response to a calling only she could hear. Leliana vividly recalled blazing azure eyes, power pulsing beneath pale skin as Mythal’s vinal markings shone brightly on a face that looked at them with no recognition.  </p><p>That blank look had instilled a terror in her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  </p><p>The blank look was so very foreign, as Celia had always responded to her presence. Even as far back as Haven where they were no more than colleagues, the Herald had always given the redhead her full attention. Over time, the casual but distant politeness had faded to be replaced with something more sincere, more authentic.  </p><p>Celia now actively sought her eyes out in crowded rooms to assess threat levels, she stood her ground-on issues that mattered to her whilst being unafraid to change her mind if she needed too. They now could stand side by side and felt comfortable with the other, secure in the knowledge that they were both equally as committed to seeing this organisation succeed.  </p><p>Leliana’s mind cast her back to the small, quiet moment in the chantry. Celia had been bare before her in a way she had never encountered before or since. She had looked for that vulnerability and had seen hints at it in the weeks following, but never to the same scale. She craved those moments now. Desired beyond all reason to see more of the woman hidden behind the mask of Inquisitor. </p><p>Celia had become a painting she had begun to know intimately. The crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she found something funny. The thin blonde eyebrow arched high when she read something that piqued her interest. The unconscious twirling of her index finger around the tip of her thumb when she pondered over something important. The delicate flush that overcame her cheekbones when she was complimented on a job well done and the ever so slight hitching of her breath when Leliana pressed close to her slight body, passing reports or gesturing to something on the world map... She was a rich tapestry of emotion, a tapestry Leliana had been intrigued to examine and found more and more appealing the more she looked at it. She shoved the notion aside. She would never know the Inquisitor like <em>that, </em>she told herself. </p><p>To have all of that familiarity wiped away and replaced by a stranger... it had terrified her almost beyond belief.  </p><p>Leliana had nearly frozen at the idea that the changes had been permanent. That the Celia they had all come to know and adore had been stolen from them forever by the power of the Well. The concept that the Inquisitor they needed had been stripped away and replaced by a cheap, empty copy of her, had been enough to make her heart thump dully in her chest. The thought of interacting with a husk who wore the face of Celia Trevelyan but had none of her magnetism was... daunting to say the least.   </p><p>She had cried out her frustration when she had collided with the Eluvian last night. Celia had <em>just </em>slipped through her fingers and as Leliana went to leap in after her, the mirror had slammed shut and went dark once more. <span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0">Josie had quickly raced to gather the mages, causing them all to gather in the small room</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"> that housed the mirror</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0">i</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0">n their nightclothes</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0">,</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW162653239 BCX0"> in the early hours of the morning.</span></span></p><p>Solas had faced the mirror with a severe face, muttering various incantations that did nothing. He hardly even looked rumpled; it was likely the apostate had not been asleep when he had been summoned. Vivienne and Dorian had stood together, as they had wracked their not insignificant power and understanding of magical theory to search for anything that could affect the mirror without breaking it. </p><p>Nothing they tried had worked, and since they could not chance breaking the Eluvian, they had been left to simply await Celia’s return, which she did two hours after her disappearance.  </p><p>The blonde had stumbled out of the mirror, feet bloodied, chemise filthy and hair in disarray. She had limped through the mirror and would have collapsed if Leliana had not seen her waver and stepped forward, catching the woman. The bard’s arms had been firmly wrapped around thin shoulders and her waist, so they had stood chest to chest, much like they had done only hours earlier. </p><p>Mythal’s markings had disappeared, as had the crystal blue glow from her eyes. She was slightly reassured by this but still very firmly posed the question, “Celia. Who am I?” </p><p>The exhausted woman had sagged against her; small warm breaths exhaled against her collarbone. “Leliana…” </p><p>Leliana had felt the crushing worry lift from her heart. Never had she been more glad to look at emerald eyes, despite their exhaustion. The strange voice from earlier had gone, the usual slightly raspy one back. She had held the exhausted woman against her and resisted the urge to grip her by the shoulders and shake her furiously, demanding answers to what in the Maker’s name had happened. She had settled for resting her chin against the top of Celia’s forehead as she pressed the blonde closer to her. Andraste, what this woman didn’t do to rattle her on what felt like a daily basis.  </p><p>She had been woken from her relief when Dorian had all but pushed her aside, as he bound forward with frantic, exaggerated movements. He had wrapped his cloak around his friend, the material thick and warm and smelling of his expensive cologne. He had sworn in Tevene, as he examined the dirt coating Celia’s chemise with worry. “You’re going to stop my heart one of these days! Just you watch! I leave you for five minutes and this is what you get up to without me.” His furious anxiety made his attempted humour fall flat, no one in the mood to laugh. Celia did not laugh or smile but raised a bandaged hand to cup his cheek in thanks.  </p><p>Vivienne had stepped forward and cast spells quickly to help heat up the shivering woman, a small yellow glow emitting from her hands.  </p><p>“My dear, do you have any other injuries aside from your feet?” Vivienne snapped her fingers and a purple glow this time came from her fingers. The scrapes on the delicate skin of Celia’s feet did not seal but had been numbed if Celia’s sudden unbalance was any indication, as she clutched at the Tevinter with tired arms.  </p><p>Dorian, feeling his female friend tremble harder against him, put one arm under her knees and another across her back and gently lifted her into his arms in a surprising show of strength.  </p><p>“I have you my friend. I have you. I won’t let you fall.” Josephine had stepped beside Leliana, hands at her mouth, unsure of how she could help when Celia possessed the strength of nary a songbird at that moment. Leliana tried to ignore how much she wished to be the one with Celia in her arms. </p><p>They seemed to all agree that standing around was not appropriate right now. The Inquisitor was shivering from the cold, and her injuries, despite mercifully being superficial, needed to be tended to. They could get their answers in the morning, when everyone had rested and recovered from their late-night anxiety.  </p><p>From the look of the Marcher’s face, the voices of the Well had well and truly faded and were unlikely to return for a while. Leliana tried to ignore the distaste she felt at having to guess on that front. She had no idea what that Well had done and what it could do in the future. She could only pray they did not make an appearance for a long while so that they could potentially find her a cure. She already had a few dozen agents looking into this. Perhaps it was time to call in on some old favours at the University of Orlais?  </p><p>Dorian moved towards the door but Solas had stepped forward, staff clutched tightly in his hand as he blocked the doorway.  </p><p>“Inquisitor, what happ-“ </p><p>“Not now Solas.” Seeing the apostate's frown at her curt reply, the Herald sighed and softly insisted, “I’ll explain more when I can. I’ll answer all your questions, but not right now. I swear <em>Hahren.</em>"</p><p>The title evidently caught the elf by surprise. Leliana noticed the slight twitch of pointed ears as his hands clutched his staff tighter for a moment. He eventually sighed and stood aside as the mages moved past him and took Celia back to her quarters to be healed. The Spymaster held no doubt that she would be resting for the rest of the day.  </p><p>Which brought them to now, as Josephine and Leliana continued their stroll around the garden. They had both gone to bed anxious and by the look of their drawn faces hidden behind some clever rouge, they had both gotten very little sleep.  </p><p>“Do you know if Celia has woken since last night?” Josie asked.  </p><p>“She was roused a few hours ago by Dorian to eat something. But afterwards she went straight back to sleep. Master Pavus insists that the Inquisitor is in good health but is merely exhausted from the energy she expelled last night. The Well took a lot out of her.” </p><p>They rounded the corner and nodded at Mother Giselle as she passed them, no doubt heading towards the Great Hall for her usual afternoon sermon.  </p><p>“That is not surprising. We have no idea what that Well did to her... or what it could do again.” the Ambassador’s worry was palpable but Leliana could not find it within herself to reassure her. They had no idea what had happened last night. Celia had not been awake enough to give a full report so they had no way of knowing whether the Well would compel her to answer a summons again. They had no clues as to who or what the Inquisitor had encountered in the Crossroads and the bard was unsure as to whether Celia could even tell them of it. The elves were not fond of giving up their secrets.  </p><p>Everything around the Well was filled with unknowns and Leliana hated it. She almost wished for a second that Morrigan had drunk, just so that she would have to deal with the consequences and not Celia. But that thought did not settle as the Spymaster knew that if she was to trust anyone with the power of the old elven empire, it would be Celia.  </p><p>The strolled towards the stone gazebo and settled into the table and chairs which had been set out for them. The garden was deserted, nearly everyone was hard at work. It was by luck that the two of them had the time to meet like this, usually it was reserved for late in the evenings. They were both typically too busy for idle chit-chat but after last night... well, they deserved a break.  </p><p>Leliana took a sip of honeyed wine, letting the smooth texture warm her as it settled in her stomach.  </p><p>“It seems that our Inquisitor is determined to make me produce grey hairs before the year is out.” Josephine laughed slightly, closing her eyes to appreciate the afternoon sun.  </p><p>Leliana hummed an agreement. Celia truly did have an unfortunate habit of finding trouble.  </p><p>“And with her demoting Cullen, we’ll have more work to do for a while as we find a replacement.”  </p><p>Leliana looked across the table at her friend who peered back at her with tired eyes.<em>That </em>announcement had been entirely unexpected. </p><p>The Spymaster had seen the Inquisitor leave the training grounds yesterday as she went to meet with the Commander. Her curiosity had been spiked by the loud cheers from below her tower and had proceeded to watch the sparring match with amusement. Cassandra should know to never trust a rogue. The meeting with Rainier had ended without bloodshed which was as much restraint as could be expected of the Seeker and Inquisitor. Heir had dutifully arrived to inform her of the event and Leliana had taken her report without an expression. Rainier had slipped down her priority list as she had trusted Cullen to oversee his sentence properly. It was evident she had been wrong to trust the former Templar with even so simple a task.  </p><p>Just as Heir had left the tower, a runner had raced towards her with a whispered report of Celia’s dismissal of Cullen. Leliana had had to force her shock to not appear on her face. So, Celia had finally had enough. The two had tiptoed around the other since their war council meeting before the Arbor Wilds but she could honestly say she had not expected Celia to snap first.  </p><p>The Spymaster had her own issues with Cullen, not least of all his insistence on using their army as a hammer to a rather delicate nail. He was not subtle in the slightest but Leliana could acknowledge that there were times when a show of force was necessary. But her issues went deeper and extended to their own personal politics and life philosophy. Celia did not face the same problem, but it was reassuring to know that his behaviour had rankled others as it had her. </p><p>Leliana had <em>not </em>forgotton the former Templar. <span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0">She vividly remembered their encounter in the </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 SCXW86421282 BCX0">Fereldan</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"> Circle during the Blight. The man had been young, barely out of training but had been callous enough to call for every mage within the Tower’s walls to be exterminated. Leliana had not been able to comprehend such a view and she still did not. He had been tortured and his m</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0">ind was sick from seeing his friends and fellows die, but to ignore the humanity of his charges? Especially when some of them had stood before him</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0">,</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"> evidently in control of their minds? Leliana too had been tortured once and her mind had nearly broken, but she had never felt the urge to call for the murder of ev</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW86421282 BCX0">ery chevalier merely because they shared a name with her jailers.</span></span></p><p>Her time with Lyna, Wynne and Morrigan had taught her that magic was just like any other Maker given gift. It could be used for ill, or it could be used to create marvels. A sword is not evil because it kills, as that same sword can also be used to defend the innocent. Like all things, it was the person wielding the weapon who held the blame, not the instrument they used to carry out their will.  </p><p>She was glad that Lyna had denied Cullen his demands. The small elf had glared at the Templar as his fury over being ignored had caused him to shout and rave at their party. It was once he caught sight of her staff that he had recoiled from them.  </p><p>Like a cornered animal, he had lashed out, and like any animal that was caged, became more dangerous. It was only a shame he had forgotten that the same cage which haunted him had been used to confine thousands of mages throughout history.  </p><p>She had not seen him for a long time after that. He had been absent at the Battle at Denerim. A contingent of Templars had joined them from the Tower but he had not counted among them, and for that she had been grateful. It was only when she entered into the service of Justinia that she had found out what had happened to the young man.  </p><p>Kirkwall... out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.  </p><p>They had all been alarmed by the reports coming out of the city. Justinia had been extremely concerned for the mages as the rumours they heard were...extreme. Leliana had been eager to get to the bottom of these concerns herself and her departure from the capital to Kirkwall had been swift. What she found in that cesspool of a city would remain with her forever.  </p><p>Countless people lining the streets of Lowtown and Darktown, eking out a living by scrounging for scraps, begging, or more commonly, turning to underground gangs to survive. Darktown had made Lowtown look downright pleasant. She remembered the burn in her lungs from the choking miasma that hung in the air, as the open sewers and damp lichen coated walls ensured she felt like she would never be clean again. The place was a maze, and it was only her training as a bard that had kept her from getting a shiv in her back. How Varric felt any love for the place, she didn’t know. </p><p>The Grand Cleric had been so swept up in the concerns of the mages and Templars that the rest of Kirkwall’s population had been forgotten. The Chantry should have been a place of succour and respite, instead it had been converted into another chess piece in a game which ensured no one won.  </p><p>Her visit to the Gallows had solidified her resolve. Mages, paranoid and desperate, had made her shiver. The Templars which had lined every sqaure inch had kept their eyes trained on their charges and she could feel their perverse excitement to put a mage in their place. The number of foreheads stamped with the sunburst sigel had made her blood roar. Tranquility was not a punishment to be handed out like bread. But there was no denying the number of emotionless faces which had not looked up as she walked past.  </p><p>Her meeting with Meredith had been...interesting. The manic look in her eyes had unsettled her as had the false pleasantries which had passed through her lips. Kirkwall was a nightmare and Meredith’s strong arming of its population was perhaps the only thing which stopped the mages declaring outright war. It was a boiling pot which was very nearly overflowing... it had only been a matter of time, Leliana had known that with a certainty.  </p><p>Cullen had looked like he had seen a ghost when he caught sight of her face. He had grown slightly, previous youthful features hardened by trauma and a severity had entered his eyes which she had distrusted. He did not share Meredith’s manic desperation, but it was not far off. He was convinced he was right and men like that would only be swayed through catastrophe.  </p><p>She had left Kirkwall with the firm intention of never returning. Elthina had not heeded her warnings and Justinia had mourned for her friend’s needless death. Anders or ‘Justice’ had taken matters into his own hands. His actions were monstrous, and Hawke was lucky she had executed him herself. The Chantry may have actually declared an Exalted March if he had been allowed to live.  </p><p>When Justinia had proposed the Inquisition to herself and Cassandra they had all agreed it could be the solution if all went wrong at the Conclave. They needed representatives from all nations however. They were to be a neutral body which could solve the problems the Chantry never could. Leliana may have been Fereldan by birth but she was Orlesian in all but name. Thus, they had needed a Fereldan Commander.  </p><p>Cassandra had suggested Cullen, having met the man as they had interrogated Varric, and Justinia had agreed, despite the reservations Leliana had expressed to such an appointment. There had not been many other candidates, and at least Cullen had some knowledge of military strategy and logistics. Templars were not trained like the Orlesian or Fereldan military, but at the time, they had not needed an army of that scale. None of them could have anticipated the size the Inquisition would reach in a few short months.  </p><p>Leliana had tried to put aside her history with the man for the sake of unity, but he had made that extremely difficult with his constant references to the Templars and their ‘superiority’ over the mages. He may not hold the title of Knight-Captain anymore, but he would forever remain a Templar. It was engrained into the very fabric of his being. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he addressed people. It all spoke to a life in service to the Templars.  </p><p>“Yes. We shall have to find someone soon, we cannot leave such a position rudderless for too long. Cassandra and Knight-Captain Rylen can take the reins for a while, but it will be good to have stability again.” </p><p>“I admit,” Josephine took a sip of her tea. “I did not expect Celia to make such a move, but I am not too surprised. They were as different as one could be. He must have said something particularly insensitive for Celia to dismiss him on the spot.” They both knew that if Celia had called it to a vote, they would have sided with her.  </p><p>Leliana had gotten word of some of what had been said and silently agreed with the assessment. ‘Particularly insensitive’ was understating the number of ridiculous claims he had made. </p><p>“Do you have any idea on who has been shortlisted?” Leliana asked, knowing that Cullen had delivered the names of his officers personally to Josie’s office.</p><p>"A few. Knight-Captain Rylen seems the obvious choice. He <em>is </em>already second in command, but he also holds former Templar ties so perhaps that may work against him. <span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0">Ser Aaron Hawthorne</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"> and Lieutenant Tamsen were also </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun AdvancedProofingIssueV2 SCXW88629093 BCX0">fairly popular</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0">. What caught my eye however was a certain </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0">Ser </span><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 SCXW88629093 BCX0">Cauthrien</span><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0">.</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW88629093 BCX0">”</span></span></p><p>Leliana froze. “Ser Cauthrien?” She asked, keeping her voice light.  </p><p>“Yes, she was sent with the contingent of soldiers that Queen Anora gifted to the Inquisition. She seems a good fit. She was the Commander of the army in Gwaren and has served in Anora’s honour guard for sixteen years. She also served as the leader of Maric’s Shield, the elite force handpicked by the former Teryn Loghain, before he became a Grey Warden of course. She is of common birth and has worked her way through the ranks, earning her much respect by her men. She may be a good fit for the role.” </p><p>Leliana’s mind flashed to a stern and resolute woman wielding the infamous Summer Sword, as she tried to stop their escape from the palace. Well then... it seems she was forever to be reminded of her past.  </p><p>“Well... we shall see what becomes of it. Cullen has still not given his decision on whether he will remain in the Keep or not. And no decision can be made until Celia is well enough.”</p><p>Josephine frowned. “What is it?” </p><p>Leliana waved a hand, "Nothing, <em>mon ami. </em>Just another name from my past."</p><p>The Ambassador looked at her a moment longer before nodding, letting the matter rest. She knew she was privy to much of Leliana’s secrets, but even now after all their years of friendship, there were still details and stories unknown to her.  </p><p>They both sat silent for a moment, taking in the smell of the flower beds and the sound of people bustling in the Great Hall.  </p><p>“You know, I’ve been meaning to speak to you for a while.” Josie said, letting her teacup warm her hands.  </p><p>Leliana raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What about?” </p><p>“Celia.” The Antivan said simply, looking back at her friend.  </p><p>“Celia? What about her?”  </p><p>Josephine looked at her over her teacup, letting the slight disproval show in her brown eyes. “You may be able to lie to everyone else Leli, but you cannot lie to me.” </p><p>Leliana let out a slight laugh, “I was not aware I <em>had </em>been lying?” </p><p>“You act different around her.” Was the response she got.  </p><p>The redhead’s face did not so much as twitch. “Do I? I haven’t noticed.”  </p><p>This time, Josephine really did tut at her. “I am not blind Leliana.”  </p><p>Leliana took another sip of wine. She sometimes cursed her friend for being so observant. However, she refused to give in that easily. </p><p>"And <em>how </em>exactly do I act different? She is the Inquisitor, of course I am going to treat her differently than I do you, or Cassandra."</p><p>"Oh, is it purely because Celia is the Inquisitor? Forgive me, I could have <em>sworn </em>it looked like something slightly different. The insistence on keeping watch over her, having <em>eleven </em>spies watching her tower just in case she leaves, touching her and holding her hand to reassure her etcetera. All of that could have been easily confused, of course." Josie's sarcasm was a rare occurence, but when she was, she was usually correct.</p><p>Leliana was too much of a professional to blush but she still felt a flush of shame in having the other woman see through her so clearly. The Antivan had known her for so many years, it was no surprise she had noticed the change in her behaviour.  </p><p>“Your eyes must be failing you, <em>mon ami. </em>I would watch over your bedside if you were injured as our Inquisitor was. I would also hug and reassure you if you needed me to." Leliana deflected.</p><p>It did not work. Josie did laugh though, seeing the avoidance from a mile away. “Oh, I need no reminders of your protectiveness Leliana. But we both know your actions are more than a friend caring for another friend.”  </p><p>“You are more than just ‘another friend’ Josie. You know that.” Leliana insisted, letting her guard drop slightly as her baby blue eyes softened.  </p><p>Josephine smiled slightly, nodding her head. “I know <em>piccolo uccello canoro. </em>But stop avoiding the topic! You have <em>feelings.</em>"</p><p>"Honestly Josie, what are we? A bunch of young girls? '<em>Feelings</em>'?" Leliana raised an eyebrow.</p><p>The diplomat huffed. “Fine. You have developed certain romantic inclinations towards our Inquisitor.”  </p><p>Leliana took another sip of wine, neither confirming nor denying the statement.  </p><p>The younger woman looked like she might burst she was so excited. She leaned forward in her seat, a flush high in her cheeks and her eyes nearly sparkled. “You do! So?!” </p><p>“‘So’, what?”  </p><p>“What are you going to do, of course! How did it start? Was it back in Haven? Oh! Was it when you were working together to hunt down Calpernia? You did spend a lot of time together.” Josie breathed for a moment as she spoke faster and faster. “How are you going to woo her? Surely you must get her flowers! I know of a florist who has been making quite a name for herself in Val Royeaux, we could get a special commission! Celia deserves nothing but the best of course-” </p><p>"Josie! <em>Breathe</em>." Leliana said firmly and looked at the other woman until she deflated slightly.</p><p>“I know, it’s just... this is so exciting! So, what are you going to do?”  </p><p>The Spymaster folded her hands in her lap as she crossed her right leg over her left. “Nothing.” </p><p>That brought the other woman up short.  </p><p>“Nothing?” Josephine asked in disbelief.  </p><p>“Yes. Nothing.”  </p><p>“But... Leliana! Why ever not? You are available, as is Celia. You have feelings for her and from what I have seen, she seems to reciprocate them. There is nothing that is stopping the both of you!”  </p><p>From what Leliana had observed, Celia did indeed feel ‘<em>something</em>’ for her. Whether it was idle attraction or something more she did not know. She was not blind to the appreciative looks she was given across the War Table, nor was she oblivious to the way in which Celia would seek her out, seemingly for idle conversation. The blushes and quick glances that were shot her way were not unwelcome and Leliana herself had cast her eyes over Celia more than she wanted to admit. Celia was a beautiful woman and Leliana had imagined more than one scenario of the both of them getting entangled in the other.  </p><p>The Spymaster was not a fool. She would be a very poor Spymaster if she was. The bard knew she was beautiful and inspired certain reactions from people. Her red hair was a beacon in most rooms and her large baby blue eyes were a weapon she had learnt to wield very early on.  </p><p>Despite recently turning six-and-thirty, she was still in fit form and only the barest hint of age was beginning to appear on her face. Her accent was smooth, and she moved with the grace of a trained dancer. These were assets that any bard master would have instilled in her years ago when she was learning the art, and hers had certainly driven the point home.  </p><p>She was also aware that she was a powerful woman and that attracted a certain kind of attention. She was the Left Hand of the Divine, an accomplished war veteran and a semi-permanent fixture in the Orlesian Court. Power was alluring and housed in the right figure... well, Leliana was not unaware as to the thrill of bedding someone so much more powerful than herself.  </p><p>She knew she could not deny her attraction, so she forged straight ahead. “Josie, what do you perceive as being possible between the Inquisitor and I? Never mind the presumption we are making in Celia returning any affection, we are both very busy women who cannot risk all we have worked for because, as you say, we have feelings."</p><p>“Leliana! Surely you jest! What exactly would you both be ‘risking’? You are both professional enough to separate business from pleasure.” Josie was shocked beyond belief.  </p><p>“Josie this isn’t the same as you casually flirting with our dear Seeker.” Leliana ignored the deep blush that came to dark cheekbones. <em>'Oh yes, mon ami. I am very aware of that little secret.' </em></p><p>“Celia is the Inquisitor. She has a thousand things commanding her attention at any one moment. She is our leader and cannot afford to be distracted by me or by anything else for that matter.”  </p><p>Josephine did not look convinced for a second. “Leli, I cannot believe what I am hearing. You have not expressed interest in anyone for over ten years and you’re just going to let her pass you by?” The redhead looked down, running a finger around the rim of her goblet.  </p><p>Josephine was not wrong. It had been so long since she had felt any romantic stirrings in her heart. She had thought they had all shrivelled up and died with Lyna. After her lover had passed... those were dark days. Romance had been the last thing on her mind.  </p><p>Questions of why had plagued her for years. Why had Lyna felt like she needed to take the final blow. Why had Lyna not let Leliana come with her to Fort Drakon, ensuring that she did not die alone, if she was to die in the first place. Why had Lyna not trusted her with the truth of Morrigan’s dark ritual? Why had the Maker taken her lover from her, when she had needed her strength more than ever in the years following the Blight.  </p><p>Justinia, or Dorothea as she had been back then, had guided her towards the light, but her faith had been shattered almost beyond repair. She believed in the Chant of Light, but it was hard to trust in a Maker who seemed determined to line her path with blood and destruction. For a time, she had hated the Maker. She had hated Andraste. She had felt the apathy she had once felt for the Chantry and it was only through her work that she had found purpose again. Justinia had once asked her about her heart’s ability for romance once more, but Leliana had brushed her off and the matter had never been revisited.  </p><p>Her work as the Left Hand had been a lifeline. She had been doing the Maker’s work as she and Justinia both saw it. Fighting for mage freedoms, expanding access and opening the Chantry’s doors to all who wished to hear it, be they human or no. Her work allowed her to carry out the ideals of a woman who Leliana knew to be good and righteous, even if she herself worked in the dark to serve the light.  </p><p>But Justinia had been chained by her work and title. She had only been able to go so far, but this war had seen so much of their progress reverse. How many lives had she taken for them to end up here? Hundreds? Thousands?  </p><p>Despite all of this, Leliana knew why she hesitated. She knew why she had not approached Celia before now.  </p><p>Truthfully... she was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again. Afraid of opening up her heart and having it crushed beneath the boot of another ancient evil, again of Tevinter’s making. Of investing herself into another person and having that person disappear as if they had never existed at all, leaving her behind where she could not follow.  </p><p>Lyna had nearly destroyed her... and Celia... Celia’s death would annihilate her.  </p><p>Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Josephine softened, reaching across the table to take a pale hand in her warm one. "Leli... Celia <em>isn't </em>Lyna."</p><p>
  <span class="TextRun SCXW71949324 BCX0"> <span class="NormalTextRun SCXW71949324 BCX0">Leliana stubbornly held back a glistening in her eyes. “Isn't she?” She whispered quietly; voice slightly broken. "I see <em>so </em>much of her in Celia. T<span class="TextRun SCXW114260583 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW114260583 BCX0">hat same sense of honour. Of duty. </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW114260583 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW114260583 BCX0">The same reckless determination to do the dangerous thing because it is the right thing.”</span></span></span> </span>
</p><p>If Lyna had been alive, she would no doubt have approved of Celia in a heartbeat. So much tied them together, despite being so far apart in origin. Elven mage and human noble. On paper they had little but Leliana connecting them both, but she knew in her heart of hearts that they would have been as two peas in a pod.  </p><p>“Is that why you like her? Because she reminds you of Lyna?” Josie’s question was quiet but Leliana could hear the trepidation behind it.  </p><p>“No.” It wasn’t that. For as many similarities as they boasted, they were both entirely different people.  </p><p>Lyna had never been good at diplomacy, her Dalish heritage preventing her from understanding the nuances of human politics. The elf had been incredibly naïve, something she had not spotted at the time, but now looked back on with painful fondness.  </p><p>Celia, however, could never be called naïve. Celia was scarred by magic and destiny which had cost her everything. She was still young, but she could never travel through the world as Lyna once had. The Marcher would never be caught dead saving the life of an imprisoned Qunari, who admitted to the murder of a farmer’s family all because of a lost sword. Celia would never have trusted Zevran to keep his word, knowing that trickery was a part of the larger game they played of death. Celia was not a cynic, but she knew enough about power and politics to know that surface appearances were not always the true story.  </p><p>Lyna had allowed the Templars in the Circle Tower to sit back as she and her companions cleared it of abominations. Celia would never have allowed such a thing. She would have argued something fierce with Knight Commander Gregoire, Leliana thought with a laugh.  </p><p>Leliana was half convinced that the Inquisitor could have marched into that Landsmeet and, if she had so desired, walked away with the crown of Fereldan on her head. She was a force to be reckoned with. As artful with an arrow or blade as she was with her tongue. Lyna had been equally as talented at violence, but she often thought with her emotions, rather than her head – something which had got her into no end of trouble with Wynne.  </p><p>She may have done the pragmatic thing and let Loghain live, but Celia would have <em>understood </em>the disgraced Teryn. It was easy to think you had all the solutions when power was at your fingertips. Leliana had learnt that lesson very painfully.</p><p>Even after all of these years, Loghain was both hero and villain and Leliana’s opinion of him changed constantly. He saved his soldiers from needless death at the darkspawn horde at Ostagar. He refused to waste away the lives of healthy Fereldan men and women to meet the demands of a boy-king who dreamed of glory. He had gathered his men and strengthen the capital’s defences, something which had been a saving grace in those final days before the battle. But he also closed his eyes to the Blight. He had let Tevinter slavers into the Alienage to gather coin for his war efforts. He had disgraced the Grey Wardens, when they too had had no power to deny the king his requests. He let Arl Rendon Howe wreak havoc through Denerim as his attention was elsewhere.   </p><p>He was forever cast in grey. Poetic then, that he now serves the Order of it.  </p><p>Celia would have probably made the same decision as Lyna, Leliana decided, but she would have done so with the full knowledge of what it was she was doing. Celia would have known that the decision would make Alistair leave. She would have known that her decision was the only one that allowed for healing, as Loghain was still well loved by the human population. It would have been a decision made with intelligence, rather than one taken out of desperation.  </p><p>As much as Leliana loved Lyna, she knew the elf would hardly recognise her now. She was a different woman, marked by the world and would never be the giggling lay sister she had once been. She no longer spoke of Maker given visions. She no longer spoke of the rose bush. She no longer shared stories or sung songs around the campfire.  </p><p>She was older, wiser and changed forever. Leliana had slowly made her peace with that... but Lyna... Lyna would never had comprehended the changes that had been necessary for her to survive.  </p><p>Lyna had been what she had needed ten years ago... but she was not what Leliana needed <em>now</em>.  </p><p>“Celia is her own person. Lyna is gone and she was a light in my life that will never be able to be replaced. But... but she is gone.” Leliana swallowed thickly. “And she is never coming back. I see her in Celia, yes. But I also see her in Cassandra. In you. I saw her in Justinia. I see her everywhere because she was a good person and I am incredibly lucky to be surrounded by good people.”</p><p>Josephine squeezed Leliana’s hand, rubbing her thumb soothingly across the back of a pale palm. It had been many years since the two of them had discussed Lyna so openly. Much of what had occurred was known to the wider world, but the small intimate details about Leliana’s romance had been kept secret. Josie knew some of the details, but not all of them. The Hero of Fereldan brought too many painful memories forth for her friend and she never wanted to add to her grief.  </p><p>She was incredibly relieved to hear Leliana dismiss her worry. Celia was just as much her friend as Leliana was. But she was also an incredible woman and if all Leliana had saw in her was Lyna, Josie knew it would only end in heartbreak for the bard. Celia deserved someone who adored her for being herself, not for being a replacement to a woman ten years gone.</p><p>“Then... what is it that stops you?” she asked.</p><p>“Fear.”</p><p><em>'Oh</em> <em>Leli.' </em>Josephine felt her eyes water and bowed her head. <span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0">Her heart bled for the redhead. </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0">The Spymaste</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0">r</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"> present</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0">ed</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"> a face to the world that seemed unfazed by anything. Time magic, giant rips into the fabric of reality, ancient </span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 SCXW190708201 BCX0">Tevinter</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"> magisters rising from the dead... Leliana took it all with</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0">out</span></span><span class="TextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW190708201 BCX0"> a flinch.</span></span></p><p>The young woman she had met all those years ago in Val Royeaux was hardly the woman who sat before her now, it was true. She had used to wander the courts, singing the sweetest songs and charming the greatest wits. She used to giggle at compliments and dance away the night before dragging them both off somewhere where they got up to no end of mischief.</p><p>When Leliana had returned to the capital after the Blight, she had hardly recognised her. Gone were the smiles and the giggles. Gone was the sweet singing that Leliana used to find so much pleasure in. Gone was the light from her eyes... The war had cost her much and it was through rumour that Josephine had heard about her mysterious elven lover who had perished. Queen Anora had reached out to Antiva for assistance in reconstruction efforts and Josie had heard more details then.</p><p>Josephine had succinctly offered her home to the woman and in the summer heat of Antiva, some of the hurt had faded away. When Justinia called a few years later, purpose had returned once more, and Josie had only been glad for it.</p><p>But old hurts lingered like scars. They may fade over time, but they never truly disappeared and with Justinia now dead as well...  </p><p>Josephine knew that behind that purple cowl hid a heart that bled for the world. Behind the mask hid a woman who had been hurt so many times but had always managed to get back up, no matter how much it hurt. Leliana was more fragile than others knew.</p><p>She was desperately lonely. Isolated in her struggles and unable to connect to people, plagued by a paranoia she had never been able to let go of. She was wrought with grief and regret over the life she had lived and the lives she had taken. She was full of doubt. Doubt over the Maker. Doubt over their chances of success. She was scared. She felt fear as keenly as anyone else.</p><p>She was merely human.</p><p>“Leliana, I know that you have every reason to be afraid. Celia finds herself in more danger than anyone else I have ever known. She is destined for things greater than we understand and will enact change on this world on a scale that hasn’t been seen since the days of Andraste. But,” She paused and took Leliana’s other hand in hers, “no matter how much we try, none of us can control that. None of us can control whether or not she gets hurt. None of us can stop Celia from making decisions that are hers by right of her title.”</p><p>Leliana stared at Josephine as her nostrils flared and tears gathered in her own eyes. </p><p>"But getting hurt is part of being alive <em>cara mia. </em>We are all mortal. We all bleed. We all bruise. That is the price we pay for being what we are. But in return for this, we are given such a rich tapestry of emotions to explore. We are given the gift of <em>love.</em>"</p><p>Josephine smiled widely, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “What a gift it is! How dull everything would be if we felt nothing at all. How blessed we are that the Maker saw fit to give us the ability to feel so much, even if at times we wish we didn’t. Love is worth so much more than any amount of riches and power. It is worth everything Leliana.” Josephine insisted, believing with her entire being the words she spoke to be true.  </p><p>“Look at how much you accomplished because you had Lyna by your side. Look at the amount of good you did in the world because you loved her and wanted to carry on her legacy. Look at how much the Inquisition has done because we love this world, for all the faults it carries.” </p><p>“But losing her...Josie losing her nearly destroyed me. I cannot do it again. <em>I can't.</em>" Leliana's voice was desperate. A terror flashed across her face so deep that Josephine worried for a moment she would flee from the table.</p><p>She gripped the hands in hers even tighter. Her gold ring flashed in the afternoon sun. “You won’t lose her. I know you Leli. You will do everything in your power to make sure that doesn’t happen. But you are not alone in that. Myself, Cassandra, Dorian, Vivienne, Varric... we all care. Every one of us wants her to succeed. We may not be able to carry the Anchor, but we can help her. We can make sure that she is never alone in her struggles. She is never alone in facing the future we are heading towards. I swear this to you.”  </p><p>Leliana bowed her head, a few stray tears finally making their way down pale cheeks. Josephine did not wipe them away. There was no shame in fear. There was no cowardice in admitting that sometimes things became too heavy to bear on their own. There was nothing wrong with realising that her heart had made a decision before her head had caught up.   </p><p>“There is only one thing you need to decide now.”  </p><p>Leliana looked up at that, sniffling slightly. “And what is that?” </p><p>“Are you prepared to miss out on what could be your second chance? Are you ready to let the dead rest and re-join the land of the living?”</p>
<hr/><p>Celia looked up from her book of poetry at the sound of a knock at her door. Dorian had just left, and she had not been expecting any more visitors this evening.  </p><p>“Come in!” She called, pushing herself further up the bed and wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders, protecting her modesty. Hopefully whoever it was would forgive her for not being dressed.  </p><p>“Hey Boss.” Iron Bull said, nodding in greeting as Krem smiled widely at her, hands fiddling with something small at his side.  </p><p>“Bull, Krem! How are you? What can I do for you?” She smiled at them both. Krem had returned from the Wilds well after she had already left it and Bull hadn’t been seen much of her these last few weeks. It had been ages since they had talked one on one.  </p><p>“Inquisitor! The Chief and I wanted to see you. Well, the Chief needed to actually see you but I wanted to check in, see if you’re alright? Need me and the boys to do anything for you?” Krem asked.  </p><p>Celia gave him a smile. “I appreciate the offer but I’m well, thank you Krem. I’m just resting today. Last night was... rough, is all. I should be right as rain tomorrow.”  </p><p>“If you’re sure, but if you ever change your mind just give the word. Oh, and I wanted to give you this. I make them in my spare time and thought it might cheer you up.” He walked forward and handed her a stuffed pink nug which had small yellow wings attached to its back. It measured no bigger than the palm of her hand. Small brown buttons had been used as eyes and small white cords were used to imitate whiskers. She had never seen anything so precious!  </p><p>She laughed as she brushed her fingers across the soft material. “Thank you Krem. It’s adorable!” She had heard Bull mention that Krem made stuffed toys, but she hadn’t thought he was serious! Perhaps she could have some made for the children in the lower camp? They could always use more things... </p><p>“We heard you had a pretty rough night but it's good to see you're feeling better. The Seeker has been on a rampage all day though, might be best to avoid her for a while.” Bull said, leaning against the canopy of her bed, ignoring the slight groan of the wood. He wouldn’t break it, but she hoped he didn’t chip the wood. Josie would scold her for damaging the antivan frame.  </p><p>Celia rolled her eyes affectionally. Cass was<em>always</em>on a rampage where Celia was concerned. The Seeker had not been pleased to hear about her late-night jaunt and had scolded her seven ways from Sunday. She had promptly left to go hit something and she hadn’t returned since then. It was likely they were going to have to commission some new training dummies before the week was out.  </p><p>“I can imagine. What is it you needed to see me for?”  </p><p>“I got a letter from one of my contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. Already verified it with Red.” </p><p>“What does this letter say?” she asked.  </p><p>Bull rolled his shoulders, his horns just missing the top of her bed. “The Ben-Hassrath have been reading my reports. They don’t like Corypheus or his Venatori. And they <em>really </em>don't like red lyrium. They're ready to work with us... with <em>you</em>, Boss. The Qunari and the Inquisition, joining forces."</p><p>Both of her eyebrows rose up her forehead. “That could be a very powerful alliance.” The spy reports were currently the only form of communication between the two factions. Having them reach out was an unexpected move.  </p><p>Bull nodded, looking mildly uncomfortable. “My people have never had made a full-blown alliance with a foreign power before. This would be a big step for them. They’ve found a massive red lyrium shipping operation out on the coast.”  </p><p>That was news to her. The Blades of Hessarian had not reported any new sightings since she rid the Storm Coast of the Red Templars who had been hiding there. Then again, it was a large area and the terrain made it hard to track anything with certainty. The cave networks were also vast and it was not surprising if they had missed something. It was also very possible that the Venatori were hiding the operation with magic, so her spies were likely never to have noticed them.  </p><p>Krem spoke up from where he had perched himself on the love seat, “They want us to hit it together. Talked about bringing in one of their dreadnaughts.” His eyes lit up in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to see one of their big warships in action.” He was practically salivating at the mouth at the idea, and Celia gave a slight smirk at his childlike enthusiasm. Krem was not much older than herself but right now he looked like a boy who had been told that Satinalia had come early.  </p><p>Bull walked to her desk, leaning back against it and crossed his arms. “They’re worried about tipping the smugglers, so no army. My Chargers, you, maybe some backup.” </p><p>“What exactly would this alliance get us? We already receive your reports?” The Ben-Hassrath missives arrived in the Rookery fairly regularly from what Leliana had told her.  </p><p>“They wouldn’t use the word “alliance” if they didn’t mean it. You would likely be granted more naval power, more Ben-Hassrath and military reports. Qunari soldiers pointed at the Venatori... It could do a lot of good.” </p><p>“Bull, you don’t seem entirely happy about this?” His uncomfortable look had not disappeared, and his shoulders seemed more tense than she could recall them being. Bull was never one to be caught off guard so to see him react this visibly unnerved her slightly. What exactly was it that the Qunari would want in exchange for their assistance? Is that what concerned him? </p><p>“Nah, I’m good. It's, uh... I'm just used to them being over <em>there. </em>It's been a while."</p><p>Celia smirked slightly, “I was under the impression that the Qunari wanted to extend their reach to the whole world?” </p><p>“Yeah. Just didn’t think I’d live to see it.” </p><p>Seeing the look on her face, Bull shrugged his massive shoulders. “The Qun answers a lot of questions, Boss. It’s a good life for a lot of people. But it’s a big change and a lot of folks here wouldn’t do so well under that kind of life. I told you before about how people like Dorian or Sera would be treated and, well... with the changes <em>you've </em>gone through, the Qunari wouldn't like that either." </p><p>Celia's amusement dropped to be replaced by a cold sense of dread. The Qunari <em>hated </em>magic and what she had done to herself was magic to an extent that no one had ever seen before.</p><p>Krem gave a cheeky grin at her. “I suppose it’s a good thing we aren't converting then.” Celia felt herself nod distractedly, brushing her fingers across the soft nug in her lap.  </p><p>Bull nodded. “This is just us joining forces against Corypheus. On that front, I think we’re good.” </p><p>Celia sat for a moment, her eyes looking out the window but not seeing anything. It was a tempting offer. The reports they had already received had done a lot of good. The Ben-Hassrath were as skilled as Bull and Leliana had told her. Even more of them would no doubt allow the Spymaster to extend her reach even further and it may even open up some trade routes Josephine could employ.  </p><p>The Inquisition’s weakest front right now was their naval power. Luckily Corypheus had brought most of his forces inland, meaning the coasts, whilst dangerous, did not house the bulk of his army. Tevinter had publicly denounced the old Magister, but Celia knew that if they felt like Orlais had weakened its borders, they would send their fleet in no time.  </p><p>It was a very tempting offer indeed... </p><p>“And you’re sure that the Qunari won’t have any objections to working with <em>me </em>specifically." She didn't point to her face but her worry was made clear as day.</p><p>“They might have objections, sure. But they also knew what they were agreeing to when they offered this alliance. They won’t cart you off in chains, if that’s what your concerned about Boss.” </p><p>Celia let out a laugh. “I think I’ll leave the chains to you, Bull.”  </p><p>Krem and the Qunari both shared a good laugh at that. Bull not ashamed in the slightest. He blinked, or was it a wink? She could never tell due to the eye-patch.  </p><p>Finally, she let out a sigh. “I think the Inquisition could use some help from the Qunari.” It was risky, but there was no harm in seeing the arrangement in full before she agreed to anything.  </p><p>“Good! I’ll pass on word to the Seeker and Red. We can set up the meeting and get things moving.”  </p><p>Krem and Bull both said their goodbyes, riffing off the other as they descended the stairs. Celia had to laugh at their behaviour. They acted more like children than mercenaries.  </p><p>Brushing the soft velvet of the plush nug, she placed it on her bedside cabinet. She only hoped this alliance proved as fruitful as the one she had made with the mages. She wasn’t sure how much more damage her body could take, if it didn’t. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:<br/>Hahren - Elder; used as a term of respect by the Dalish<br/>Mon ami - my friend<br/>Piccolo uccello canoro - Little Songbird<br/>Cara mia - dear one</p><p> </p><p>So definitely a slight breather after the last chapter. We will soon get back to the excitment but I felt like I needed to move the romance along after *checks notes* 50k of waiting ^_^ </p><p>Some quick mentions - the idea for using Ser Cauthrien comes from a fanfiction called 'O Seeker Still Seeking' by Grace Kay (Drummerchick7) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690045<br/>If you are into Cassandra/Female Inquisitor romances then definitely check this one out. It is so heartbreaking and lovely and I adore it so much. She doesn't use Cauthrien exactly as I have done here, but it made me consider her so I felt like she deserved the credit. &lt;3</p><p>As mentioned in the A/N above, this week I will have to take a slight break as I have deadlines due and they are worth 50% of my modules so I kinda need to pass them ;') I have the outline for the next chapter so I hope I won't leave you waiting too long. </p><p>Thank you all once again for your support! As usual, any constructive feedback or gereral comments are always welcome x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Katari</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Celia and the Chargers head out to the Storm Coast and the operation does not end well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just want to say a huge thank you all for your patience. I submitted my essay for my module but I still have others to finish so there may still be delays between updates. However, I will admit that I have probably been working on this fic more than I should have considering the other things I have to get done but... oh well :) So what if this chapter is nearly 16k? Who cares if I have an essay regarding the morality of the modern race debate to submit? Anything that sparks joy, right? </p><p>Once again, a massive thank you for your continued support as this fic has taken off and expanded in ways I never imagined. </p><p>Enjoy the update &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain continued to pour as Celia and her party navigated their way slowly through the rocky cliffs of the Storm Coast. The downpour had begun two days earlier and hadn’t let up since, ensuring they all went to bed wet and woke up cold and damp. Needless to say, Celia was having great fun in laughing at Dorian’s perpetual look of disgust at the soaked through silks he was wearing.  </p><p>“You didn’t have to come you know!” she called over the rain, urging her mare forward so they rode side by side.  </p><p>Dorian shook his head, trying to get the water out of his ears. He bunched his clothes tighter around his shoulders, trying to find some semblance of heat.  </p><p>“Of course, I had to come!” he called back. “You didn’t seriously think I would let you meet with these Qunari unprotected, did you?”  </p><p>“Hey!” Krem called from behind them, his own face lit up in a grin despite the weather. “We’re protection enough for the Inquisitor! Ain’t that right boys?” The rest of the Chargers all shouted their agreement, their light-hearted mood making Dorian scowl even more.  </p><p>Celia let out a laugh. Dorian had given her a look filled with suffering when he had heard of this potential alliance and would not let her get a word in edgewise to disway him from accompanying her. She had simply giggled when he complained about having to leave behind his books, as the rain would ruin them beyond repair and the librarian in him couldn’t allow such a thing.  </p><p>Since they had left the Frostbacks a few days ago he had complained constantly, and by this point Celia took great delight in reminding him he was here at his own insistence. She had been more than prepared to bring along Cassandra instead, but he had been adamant.  </p><p>The mare below her snuffed a breath, shaking her mane in seeming agreement and Celia gave a small laugh as she patted her warm neck.  </p><p>“Oh, you can shut it as well. Your mistress already gives me enough grief for my sacrifices as it is.” Dorian whined good-naturedly, tossing his head away from her. The Inquisitor just shook her head. </p><p>“What did you name her after?” he asked after a moment, the silent treatment falling away as quickly as he had threatened it.  </p><p>“Almira.” The mare shook her head again at the sound of her name. The grey and white dappled horse had been her passion project for the last few months, but this was the first time that both of them had ventured so far from Skyhold. The months she had spent training Almira were evident, as unlike Dorian’s charming chestnut bay, she did not flinch or buck at the sound of lightning.  </p><p>Herself and Master Dennett had worked overtime to bring the young andalusian into shape and what a beauty she had turned into. White-grey mane (currently intricately braided to avoid tangles), large dark eyes, lower legs a dark colour which transitioned into a dappled white grey onto the rest of her body. She was composed of clean, smooth and strong lines, indicating her fine breeding. She was a creature who was bred not just for battle but for speed. She was perfect, and Celia had let the Lady Dowager know of her appreciation for giving her such a fine gift.  </p><p>“Inquisitor! Camp’s just ahead!” Rocky appeared at her leg, pointing towards something up on the hill.  </p><p>“Understood.” She turned smoothly in the saddle, calves holding firm to maintain her balance as she let go of the reins. She called over her shoulder, “Chargers, eyes up! Camp is just ahead.”  </p><p>With the practiced movements of trained mercenaries, they all made their way to the small camp, a fire already going with some of Bull’s scouts rushing to get temporary shelters ready for them.  </p><p>“Finally. It isn’t quite civilisation, but I’ll take anything at this point.” Dorian moaned.  </p><p>Their horses came to a stop and they dismounted, hands coming to take her horse away to the shelter of some trees where feed and water troughs had been set up. She gave one last appreciative pat to Almira’s neck before she let her go. They both deserved a rest.  </p><p>The Chargers moved around the camp with organised chaos and Celia could not help but be impressed by their efficiency. They were almost as smooth as the Inquisition’s scouts.  </p><p>“Here, Your Worship. A tent for yourself and Master Pavus.” A non-descript man wearing muted browns and greens gestured towards the largest tent erected. A scout, she deduced and pulled the complaining mage towards shelter.  </p><p>The tent was equipped with little more than two small cots, a table and some chairs, but it served them well enough as they both collapsed into the chairs with a relieved sigh.  </p><p>Despite her good humour, Celia felt like she would never be dry again. The cold and damp seeped into her bones as she violently shivered, damp leathers sticking to her under-clothes. Dorian divested himself of his outer robes, pulling another from his pack. Treated blue silks were traded for green as the mage pulled them on quickly, shivering just as much as herself.  </p><p>“Tell me why I suffer through this again?” he complained as he pulled gloves from his pack and put those on as well.  </p><p>Celia gave an easy grin, despite the shivers. “Because you love me ever so much and you refuse to let your dearest friend meet some Qunari spies alone without back up?”  </p><p>He huffed a laugh, “That would do it.”  </p><p>Dorian conjured small flames in his hand and reached across the table to take Celia’s hands in his. Used to his mothering and knowing that Dorian would be the last person on the planet who would hurt her, she didn’t flinch and let him guide her wet bandaged hands in his. Instead of catching fire, the bandages hissed as steam rose from them, rapidly drying. The flames in his palms warmed her hands to the bone and she released a contented sigh. Sometimes she really did wonder what she would do without magic.  </p><p>“You know, at this point I like to believe I understand magical theory pretty well, but just when I think I understand it properly, you do something which makes me reconsider.” She said, flexing her fingers to relieve the aching in her joints from the cold.  </p><p>The Tevinter gave her a smug filled smirk. “Well, I <em>am </em>a mystical wonder of the universe, but I thank you for acknowledging it after so long. Magic is all about intent, Inquisitor. Had I intended to hurt you then your hands would currently be encased in flames. Lucky for you, I happen to be very fond of you and have a vested interest in making sure you live through this war unscathed.”  </p><p>Celia squeezed his hands in thanks. For all the teasing she regularly gave Dorian, she truly was overwhelmed by how much he took care of her. He rivalled Cassandra with how much of a mother hen he turned into when she was injured, rushing to get her tea, books, blankets and often scolding her for getting hurt in the first place.  </p><p>She still remembered the frantic heartbeat which had pressed against her side when he had lifted her into his arms after her little jaunt into the Eluvian. The man had barely known what to do with her and Celia knew she had worried him immensely. It had taken lots of wine, books and promises to get him to relax afterwards and his insistence on coming with her was likely the remnants of his worry.  </p><p>The only way Celia had gotten Cass to stay behind as well was on the promise of having Dorian with her at all times. The Inquisitor and her advisors still had to pick a new Commander and the Seeker was conducting interviews with everyone they had selected for advancement. There was only a handful of people they felt comfortable moving forward with, but after Cullen they needed to make sure that the person who took over would be respected by their men and also respected the Inquisition’s vision going forward. Corypheus had been quiet for several weeks now so it seemed a prime time to get their house in order before they were called back to the fight.  </p><p>They both sat there for a while, heating themselves through as much as possible without a fire. Celia felt her stomach rumble and sighed, knowing they had to venture back into the rain to get some food before they met with this Qunari contact. Twisting her hair back into as neat of a braid as she could get, she straightened her lightweight leather armour and pulled her bow back onto her back.  </p><p>Dorian groaned, but he felt his own stomach rumble and they both grimaced as they stepped back outside, rain returning to pound on them from above, their clothes soon soaked through once again.  </p><p>Celia spotted Krem and the rest of the Chargers by the large fire pit near the tree line and she headed over, accepting a small bowl from Stitches. Skinner was sharpening a dagger with a whetstone, the moves obviously well practiced as she focused with a singular intensity. Grim sat on the wooden log, eyes closed and silent as was his way. They all appeared relaxed and in good spirits, despite the circumstances.  </p><p>“Your Worship! Nothing like a bit of rain to get the lungs working, eh?” Krem said around his spoon.  </p><p>Dorian scoffed. “Of course this agent would want to meet in the middle of nowhere. It would be too much effort to meet somewhere, oh, I don’t know, dry?” The Marcher just smiled, winking at Krem when he shared a secret smile with her.  </p><p>“If you think this is bad, you should avoid Windervale in the Free Marches. It rains constantly and the lakes flood all the time. Damn muddy, let me tell you that.” </p><p>“Duly noted.” Dorian’s voice was sour as he took another spoonful of soup.  </p><p>“Come on, Dorian. Cheer up, it could be worse.” Celia nudged his shoulder with hers.  </p><p>“And how, my darling Inquisitor, could it be worse?”  </p><p>“We could be in the Fallow Mire.” She raised an eyebrow.  </p><p>Dorian snapped his mouth shut and nodded quickly. “Point taken.”  </p><p>They all laughed at that. The Mire was a location they all hoped to never venture into again. The bog was beautiful in a way, all harsh angles and unspoiled lands. But the treacherous ground underfoot made it so you couldn’t walk through the place without the worry of stepping into hidden mud holes. That, and the undead roaming about the place didn’t help. They had purged the Mire of most of them, but the chance that they had eliminated all of them was unlikely. Dorian had never forgiven her for taking him with her.  </p><p>She inhaled the sea-salt air and looked around camp. Bull was talking with some mercenaries, their green and brown garb like that of the man earlier. She guessed they were scouting around for the Qunari agent. Sera was nowhere to be seen but that did not exactly surprise or concern her. The elf would turn up eventually.  </p><p>Bull had not been able to provide details on <em>who </em>it was they were supposed to meet. Whether a Qunari like himself, or one of their many undercover agents. She could not help her curiosity. Before she had met Bull, back in Ostwick they had only heard about the Qunari that had shipwrecked in Kirkwall and then later led the city into a slaughter. Her father had received those reports with great concern and alarm, and their city guard had doubled over night. Celia had only been eighteen at the time, and was kept from the late-night security talks her father held with her brothers and city guard, but she had known enough to be wary. </p><p>Luckily the Champion had defeated the Arishok and things eventually calmed back down again... well, that was until Meredith.  </p><p>The point being that she had had very little opportunity to converse with those who followed the Qun. It was an interesting philosophy, and whilst she disagreed with many aspects of it, she could appreciate the structure it must provide to those who believed in it. She had seen and admired the skill of The Iron Bull, but she theorised that he was not exactly the typical example of his people.  </p><p>“Have we gotten any word about this Qunari contact?” She asked Krem, chucking her empty bowl into the pile by the spit.  </p><p>“Not yet. It shouldn’t be too long though. Chief reckons they’re doing their own scouting of us before they approach.” He shrugged his shoulders, “You know what they’re like. Paranoid as anything. Know where the Chief gets it from now.”  </p><p>“Well, I cannot blame them for being cautious. An alliance is a big step and I’m not sure they know how to approach anyone that is not an enemy.” Krem nodded at her.  </p><p>“True. Chief has been quiet lately, and don’t let him know I told you, but I think the big man’s not sure how to deal with it all.”  </p><p>That was not surprising. Bull had seemed on edge when he had announced the offer to her. She had checked in with Leliana about his reports and the redhead confirmed that they were credible. There was a lot to gain from this alliance but who they were making it with was causing some concern.  </p><p>Celia remembered with a flush how Leliana had quietly taken her arm and told her to be careful. Qunari were not known for being the friendliest of people and Celia’s position and appearance would make her an easy target for Ben-Hassrath assassins. The Orlesian had pierced her with the concern in her blue eyes and Celia had felt her stomach somersault. She had told her equally as quietly that she would be careful. The bard had looked at her for a long moment after that, before she dropped her hand. They had stood close together but the caw of a raven had broken their revelry. Celia had fled the Rookery with her heart fluttering, and she could have sworn Leliana’s lips had quirked up before she left.  </p><p>Just remembering it brought a blush to her cheeks.  </p><p>“Are you alright?” Dorian asked her with some concern.  </p><p>“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just trying to stop my fingers from going numb.”  </p><p>Dorian looked at her for a moment and Celia glanced away quickly to stop him catching sight of her flushed cheeks. It didn’t work and after a moment a wide smirk pulled at his lips.  </p><p>“Why, Celia... what has caused your flush all of a sudden?”  </p><p>The rest of the Chargers were looking now, and Celia shuffled, uncomfortable with all the eyes on her.  </p><p>“Could it be thoughts of a certain <em>person</em>?” Dorian continued, arms crossed and moustache twitching with how wide he was smiling at her expense.  </p><p>Celia coughed, as Krem, Dalish, Rocky and Skinner laughed. “I have no idea what you are referring to Master Pavus.” </p><p>“Ooo ‘Master Pavus’ is it?” Krem wiggled his eyebrows.  </p><p>Dorian wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No? No idea, whatsoever?”  </p><p>“None.” Celia cursed her friend in her head, swearing revenge when they were alone. Maybe she wouldn’t present him with that Mortalitasi tome she had tracked down. It would serve him right. </p><p>“You know Celia, I’m hurt.” The Marcher turned to look at him with an eyebrow cocked.  </p><p>“You never told me you and our resident Spymaster were an item.” He said.  </p><p>Celia blushed something fierce and stammered a reply, shocked. “What? No! We-we're not-”  </p><p>The man just smirked and pulled her closer to him, his silks wet against her cheeks. “Now now. No need to deny it.” </p><p>She slapped his hand away from her, shoving him gently so he rocked on his feet. “Master Pavus I will have you know that there is nothing happening between myself and Lady Leliana.”  </p><p>The thought made her flustered and blue eyes flashed in her mind’s eye.  </p><p>“Inquisitor, I saw her rush forward to clutch you to her breast the other night.” He brought his hands to his chest, much like a mummer on stage as the Chargers laughed at their antics. “The way she swooped in and rested her head against yours, the way she whispered your name and held your delicate hands in hers.” She pursed her lips at him. “It was all <em>very </em>romantic!”  </p><p>“Has anyone ever told you that you are insufferable?”  </p><p>“Come on, Your Worship. There’s no secrets here! Though I can understand why you kept this secret.” Krem leaned forward, arms resting against his knees, raindrops running down his face from the trees.  </p><p>Celia huffed. “There is <em>nothing </em>happening between Leliana and myself. Really, you are all like a bunch of schoolchildren with your gossiping.”  </p><p>“Wait, really? Nothing?” Krem asked.  </p><p>“Really.” She confirmed, fighting to get her blushing cheeks under control.  </p><p>Dorian put a hand to his chin as he looked her up and down with a critical eye. “Nothing a little effort cannot fix. You are a beautiful woman Celia and if we can get you into some real tailored clothes soon, you could have her on her knees ready to worship you.”  </p><p>This time Celia really did hit him across the shoulder, as the Chargers cackled once more.  </p><p>Taking pity on her, Dalish gestured to Krem with her chin, hands on her sta-bow. “I don’t know why you’re laughing Krem, we all know about your little lady back at Skyhold.”  </p><p>The tables turned and now they all looked at the lieutenant. His blush was slight, and Celia nearly cooed with how adorable he looked; chest puffed up like a bird.  </p><p>“You have a lady, Krem?” she asked. It was not often she got to gossip like a common soldier, and she took this time to relish in someone else having all the attention for a change.  </p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say she’s ‘my’ lady... I just talk to her every now and then.” He brought a hand up and rubbed his neck.  </p><p>Stitches guffawed. “Yeah, heard that before. '<em>Talk'</em>, sure.”  </p><p>Krem gave another laugh. “I shall have you know I am a perfect gentleman.” He mimed combing back his hair and looked up, chin aimed at the sky.  </p><p>“Here, my lady. Glad I could be of assistance.” He rasped, voice comically lowered.  </p><p>Celia smiled, charmed by the entire situation. “What’s her name?”  </p><p>Here, the false bravado fell away and Krem’s eyes softened until they resembled melted butter. “Marguerite.”  </p><p>Celia frowned, the name pulling at threads in her mind. “Do you mean Marguerite who works in the kitchens?”  </p><p>Krem nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, sometimes help her move the food deliveries. That’s how we met actually.”  </p><p>A comely girl with dark chestnut hair braided into two milkmaid braids flashed behind her eyes and Celia gave him a soft smile. “She’s lovely. I also happen to know that she’s very fond of yellow roses. If you <em>happened </em>to give her some, I’m sure she would be most appreciative.”  </p><p>Dorian turned to her with an eyebrow raised in question, not having any idea who this woman was. Celia just shrugged, “She’s the one who delivers my food to me sometimes. She likes to bring me flowers from the garden and she more often than not brings yellow roses.”  </p><p>She was not able to name every worker of the Inquisition, but she did make a concerted effort to put as many names to faces as she could. It helped sometimes, having familiar faces around aside from her companions. Made her feel less lonely.  </p><p>Marguerite always gave her a cheery smile when she brought her a dinner tray and Celia had made small talk with the slightly older woman on numerous occasions. She had joined the Inquisition just after Redcliffe and before that, she had been living Lydes with her younger sister and elderly mother. She had joined the Inquisition hoping to make a difference and Celia had been inspired by the simple faith that Marguerite had placed in their cause and in her. It was sometimes easy to forget who it was they did all of <em>this </em>for and seeing the simple yellow roses on her office desk served as a pleasant reminder.  </p><p>Krem nodded with some measure of seriousness and Celia silently wished him the best of luck. She pictured them in her mind and thought to herself that they would surely make a charming couple.  </p><p>Just then, Bull and Sera walked over to them, the elf having returned from wherever she had disappeared to. Celia knew she needed to have a word with her soon about her behaviour regarding Rainier. She had thought she would be able to have a quick word with her on the road but so far, no opportunity had presented itself. It would have to wait for now.  </p><p>“Hey Boss. My scouts just got the signal. We should move out.” Celia, Dorian and the rest of the Chargers straightened out and stood from the fire pit, well-practiced hands doing one final check of their weapons and armour.  </p><p>“Where is the meeting point?” She took point with Bull as the rest fell in behind them.  </p><p>Bull nodded towards a small outcropping a few meters below them. “Looks to be a small vantage point overlooking the beach. It’s a good spot. Able to see most of the seafront whilst being hidden.”  </p><p>They trekked down the cliff side, boots sliding on the smooth rock surface every now and then. Celia carefully slid the rest of the way and looked at the small camp that was nestled into the rock face. A small lean-to tent, fire pit and bed roll. It was humble but served its purpose well enough, even if it would not protect anyone from the pouring rain. </p><p>Bull looked around, hands relaxed at his sides even as his face was pinched slightly. “All right, our Qunari contact should be here to meet us.” </p><p>“He is.” A voice spoke from behind them. They turned to find a bare faced elf, sword at his hip and smile on his face. He had been behind the fallen dwarven pillar that was placed to their left. Celia was impressed, she had not heard him, even with her new ears. He was pointedly unremarkable, no obvious scars or tattoos distinguished him, and his hair was a simple nut-brown colour, swept back from the rain and wind. He was as unassuming as could be, which Celia knew meant he could go and do just about anything. “Good to see you again Hissrad.” The elf continued.  </p><p>Bull gave a loud laugh. “Gatt! Last I heard, you were still in Seheron!” </p><p>They clasped forearms loudly and Celia kept note of the location of Gatt’s hands. Dorian had come to rest protectively on her left side, the Tevinter mage keeping his arms crossed against his chest as a frown pulled at his eyebrows. She did not need to look at him to know he did not like this. “They finally decided I’d calmed down enough to go back out into the world.” Gatt said.  </p><p>Bull turned to her and his men, arm coming to slap Gatt across the back which caused the man to move forward from the force. “Boss, this is Gatt. We worked together in Seheron.” The smile on Bull’s face was wide and genuine so Celia decided to take some comfort from that.  </p><p>Gatt stepped towards her, ignoring the bristling of Dorian when he did so. His previous open expression had fallen into something more cautious. His eyes flashed from hers and took in her face, frown taking hold. When he saw the ever so slight point to her ears, his lips thinned. “Inquisitor? Hissrad’s reports said to expect a human. What are you?”  </p><p>Celia winced at the bluntness of his question. Well, spy he may be, but observing common social graces was evidently not part of training. The Chargers shuffled behind her and she could hear someone cough to dispel the tension. She did not offer her arm but nodded as graciously as she could. “Greetings Gatt. I am indeed Inquisitor Trevelyan. I assure you I am entirely human.” She ignored the discomfort she felt at that statement as these days she really did not know if she still met that definition.  </p><p>“Your ears state differently.” He gestured needlessly at her face.  </p><p>Dorian huffed, coming to stand closer beside her. “Clearly you must be blind. Her name is indicative enough of her race.” </p><p>Celia touched his hand slightly to calm him. She could handle her own battles. Dorian did not say anything else but did step back slightly.  </p><p>Gatt seemed to agree to move on, even if his eyes kept returning to her ears. “Well... it’s none of my concern. Hissrad’s reports say you’re doing good work.” </p><p>“Hissrad?” Celia questioned, the name obviously addressing Bull, but she did not think ‘The Iron Bull’ translated so neatly into Qunlat.   </p><p>“Under the Qun we use titles, not names.” Gatt explained.  </p><p>Bull stepped forward, not missing the lift of her brow for explanation. “My title was ‘Hissrad,’ because I was assigned to secret work. You can translate it as ‘Keeper of Illusions,’ or...” he trailed off.  </p><p>“‘Liar.’ It means liar.” Gatt deadpanned.  </p><p>Bull turned to him, “Well, there’s no need to say it like<em> that</em><em>.</em><em>” </em> </p><p>Celia gave Bull another look and tried to fit the title with the man she knew. Bull was an apt liar, she had witnessed that herself, but from what she had seen he did not lie for no reason. ‘Hissrad’ was not exactly inaccurate but it lacked the unique individuality that ‘The Iron Bull’ held. Bull’s chosen name was filled with a personality and flair that was all him. She wondered what it was he had been doing in Seheron (or earlier?) which had awarded him such a grandiose title.  </p><p>“Regardless, I look forward to working together.” She stated, hands coming to rest at the bottom of her back, spine straight and vivid blue and green eyes piercing. She fell into her usual professional manner with the mask of Inquisitor slipping seamlessly into place.  </p><p>Gatt copied her. Time to get down to business at last. “As do we. Hopefully this will help both our peoples. Tevinter is dangerous enough without the influence of this Venatori cult. If this new form of lyrium helps them seize power in Tevinter, the war with Qunandar could get worse.” The dread he felt was obvious and Celia felt her own stomach clench with fear. The war with the Qunari and Tevinter had been on-going for centuries at this point. Thoughts of oceans of blood filled her head and she knew that a slaughter would be the result of such escalation.  </p><p>Dorian huffed beside her. “Yes. Filthy, decadent brutes, the lot of them. I’m certain life would be much better for all of us under the Qun.” He snarked. Celia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She really should have brought Cassandra with her; interviews be damned. She, at least, knew how to mind her tongue.  </p><p>Gatt thankfully did not rise to the bait. He shrugged his shoulders. “It was for me, after the Qunari rescued me from slavery in Tevinter.” He looked at Dorian with a blank expression. “I was eight.” Celia felt Dorian flinch slightly, she knew her own distaste was hidden but it was hard. Eight years old... Maker. “The Qun isn’t perfect, but it gave me a better life.”  </p><p>Dorian did not give up. “Yes, one free from all that pointless free will and independent thought. Such an improvement.”  </p><p>Before they got any further into this pissing match, Celia interrupted, stepping forward so she formed a physical barrier between them. She turned to Dorian, “Both people have their problems. Arguing about the war between your two nations is not going to help any of us right now.” Her voice was calm but stern. She really did not need another fight and Dorian seemed to read that from her face.  </p><p>Slightly abashed the mage nodded, “Fair enough.”  </p><p>“I’m not here to convert anyone. All I care about is stopping this red lyrium from reaching Minrathous.” She turned back to Gatt. He was still the picture of calm and she could only be grateful for that.  </p><p>Bull made a sound in the back of his throat. “With this stuff, the Vints could make their slaves into an army of magical freaks. We could lose Seheron and see a giant Tevinter army come marching back down here.” His concern was obvious. Such thoughts were almost unthinkable for him and Celia could see memories of his time in Seheron returning to him. She patted his arm in reassurance. They would stop that from happening. They had no choice.   </p><p>“The Ben-Hassrath agree. That’s why we’re here. Our dreadnaught is safely out of view, and out of range of any Venatori mages on shore. We’ll need to eliminate the Venatori, then signal the dreadnaught so it can come in and take out the smuggler ship.” Gatt gestured towards the coast. As he said, she could spot no dreadnaught.  </p><p>“What are your thoughts, Bull?” He had more experience with Qunari naval power than she did. She hated that she was having to do this mission mostly blind but that was the risk they took in operations like this. It was an unfortunate necessity.  </p><p>The horned man hummed in thought. “Hmm, don’t know. I’ve never liked covering a dreadnaught run. Too many ways for crap to go wrong. If our scouts underestimate enemy numbers, we’re dead. If we can’t lock down the Venatori mages, the ship is dead. It’s risky.” Not exactly the reassurance she had been looking for. He disliked this as much as she did.  </p><p>Gatt huffed, hand coming to rest on his sword hilt. It was not a threatening move. It oddly reminded her of Cassandra, as she would periodically touch her sword hilt to reassure herself it was there. “Riskier than letting red lyrium into Minrathous?”  </p><p>Celia peered out over the coast with eyes that were unseeing. She ran through the plan in her mind. “There might be Venatori mages on the ship as well. If the dreadnaught can’t handle them...” </p><p>Gatt shook his head in reassurance. “It’s unlikely there’ll be more than two or three mages on the ship. And they’ll be dead by the third shot. On land though, a half-dozen Venatori attacking the dreadnaught from cover could do considerable damage.” She couldn’t deny that, but she felt slightly uncomfortable over how dismissive he was towards ‘two or three’ mages.  </p><p>A single mage was worth ten foot soldiers. They were not to be underestimated. A talented mage was worth their weight in lyrium from her experience and Tevinter mages came from a land where their powers were thoroughly embraced. These were no Circle mages who had never had the chance to experience the full scope of their powers. These were trained and desperate Venatori, who would not hesitate to kill them. Corypheus was losing ground and they knew if they wanted to conquer the South soon, they needed every advantage they could get. Hence, the red lyrium.  </p><p>A ship was made of wood, after all. And when you faced an opponent who could conjure flames in their hands? It posed a risk.  </p><p>“If it’s dangerous for the dreadnaught close to shore, why not attack when the smugglers reach open water?” If they could attack them on sea, then this whole thing would be easier. Less risk for her and her men and less risk of the red lyrium falling back into enemy hands. If it was under the ocean, only the fish would get near it.  </p><p>Gatt shot down any chance of that swiftly. “Any decent smuggling ship can outrun a dreadnaught on open water.”  </p><p>She had to take his word on that.  </p><p>“And I assume attacking them outright with a larger force would mean they would simply hunker down and hide again, risking losing them permanently.” It was not posed as a question as she already knew the answer.  </p><p>“Exactly. This is risky, yes, but it’s our best chance to destroy the shipping operation for good.”  </p><p>Celia glanced at them all. The Chargers looked between her and Bull and she knew they would do the job and get it done. They were ready for the challenge. Dorian and Bull just watched her. They knew she would arrive at the conclusion they had. This job had to happen, and it had to happen now.  </p><p>She took a deep breath and held it. “Well... Let’s go hold up our end of this bargain, then.” </p><p>The Chargers let out a little whoop a that. She was quite sure that the day the Chargers turned down a challenge would be the day that the Free Marches united under the Orlesian Empress.  </p><p>They all moved closer and Gatt used a stick to draw a quick diagram of the shore in the dirt. “My agents suggested two possible locations the Venatori may be camped to guard the shore. Here...” He pointed towards a position south of their location. It was furthest from the beach and lower, meaning it had a clear shot at the coastline. “And here. We’ll need to hit both at once.” The second location was to the north. It looked to be on top of a steep incline which could pose a challenge if they were flanked but it seemed unlikely. The rocky mountain terrain made it unstable ground and archers or mages were just as likely to fall and break their necks than manage to hit them with their attacks.  </p><p>Bull took a quick look at the rough map and she could see his eyes dart up to match the locations from where they could see them from their camp. “I’ll come with you, Boss. Krem can lead the Chargers. I’ll fill him in, and we can go.” The Qunari moved him and his men a few feet away and she could hear him assigning positions and giving them their orders.  </p><p>Celia cocked her hip as she tried to settle the unease in her stomach. Something about this run just smelt foul to her. Maybe it was the clear nervousness of the Iron Bull, or the severity of the risk posed if they failed to stop the Venatori. She did not believe Gatt was misleading them, as it was after all the Qunari who had approached them for this alliance. It would make no sense to lie about this.  </p><p>She was used to nerves before a mission, but this felt different. She didn’t like it at all.  </p><p>Celia, Dorian and Sera stood by the fire with Gatt, and she followed the elf’s gaze. He was looking at Bull with an expression she could not place. It spoke of pride, regret, anger and something else. Something deeper. The closest she could guess was anxiety.  </p><p>She came to stand at his side, surprising him slightly with her silent footsteps. “I’m sensing an underlying tension, Gatt. Is Bull going to get in trouble for passing those reports on?”  </p><p>“You have no need to worry, Inquisitor.” He turned to her properly. “Unlike some others under the Qun, I know how it works out here. The Ben-Hassrath aren’t pleased with how forthcoming Bull has been... but he was one of their best agents. He kept the streets clean in Seheron longer than anyone before him, or after. My superiors trust him enough to accept how he joined the Inquisition, even if they don’t like it. Besides, they hate to discard a tool that might still have some use left in it. That’s why I have a job.” His voice was wry, and Celia decided not to press. She did not want to pressure the agent. His story was his own and she was wary of treading on any toes. Bull had told her enough about what life was like under the Qun to know that they suffered more than most for their life choices.  </p><p>“Very well. I appreciate your candour.”  </p><p>She moved away from the fire and towards the Chargers and she heard some of the orders Bull was assigning.  </p><p>“Once they’re down, send up your signal. That’ll let the dreadnaught know it’s safe to come in.”  </p><p>Krem nodded, earlier amusement gone to be replaced by professional certainty. “Understood, Chief.” </p><p>“Remember, you’re gonna want to volley to start, but don’t get suckered into fighting at range. They’ve got mages.”  </p><p>“It’s alright, we have a mage of our own.”  </p><p>Dalish piped up from behind him, “I’m not a mage!” Celia gave a little smile at that. Why Dalish insisted she was not a mage when the term apostate had lost much of its strength, she did not know. Whatever made her feel safest, she supposed.  </p><p>Bull ignored her. “Get in close and take their enchanter down before he takes over the battlefield.” </p><p>“He’ll be dead before he knows it.” Skinner said, smile practically feral and hands already reaching for her daggers.  </p><p>The Qunari wavered for a second. “Just... pay attention, all right? The Vints want this red lyrium shipment bad.” Celia wondered how nervous Bull was for her to hear it so noticeably. Usually, the mercenary captain was all high spirits and eager for a fight. ‘The bigger the better’ as he once said to her. Clearly, he felt the same way she did about this operation. The Venatori had much to lose if they failed here. It would only make them more desperate... and more dangerous.  </p><p>Krem finally rolled his eyes, his usual snark appearing again. "Yes, I know. Thanks, Mother.”  </p><p>Bull gave a smile at that. “Qunari don’t have mothers, remember?” </p><p>The lieutenant gave him a firm look with his hands coming to rest on his hips. “We’ll be<em> fine </em>Chief.” He reiterated.  </p><p>Bull rolled his impressive shoulders back, right hand coming up in a clenched fist. “Alright Chargers! Horns up!” </p><p>“Horns up!” was the returning cry.  </p><p>Bull turned to her and nodded. “Ready whenever you are, Boss.”  </p><p>Celia took one last sweeping look at the Chargers and nodded at them firmly, wishing them luck. “Let’s go.” Dorian, Sera and Gatt came to stand with her, hands on weapons and game faces on.  </p><p>“Chargers! Hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast! When this is all over, drinks are on me!” </p><p>“You’ve got it Chief! Chargers, double-time! Let’s move!”  </p><p>The Chargers headed down the hill at a slight jog, slow enough they wouldn’t break their necks on the smooth rockface but fast enough that it only took them moments to descent the decline.  </p><p>Celia took point as her group left the site and headed up the steep incline. For several minutes they climbed in silence, wary of being caught off guard.  </p><p>Gatt spoke up from behind her, not out of breath in the slightest. “You gave your Chargers the easier target.” He sounded more amused than annoyed about that fact. </p><p>“You think?” Bull replied.  </p><p>“Lower and farther from the smugglers’ ship? It’s much less likely to be heavily defended.” Celia agreed. It had not escaped her notice that Bull had given this group the trickier target. It was dangerous terrain and there was less of them than the Chargers, despite this area being the more likely choice for enemy encampments.   </p><p>“Looks like we’ll be doing the heavy lifting then. Just like old times.” Gatt gave a slight chuckle at that.  </p><p>They finally rounded up the bend on the hillside, bodies tense as their eyes flittered between the trees, trying to spot the enemy they knew lingered beneath. Gatt drew his plain steel sword with a quiet hiss from his hip, “Be careful. My agents said to expect opposition ahead of the main camp.”  </p><p>Bull gave a small huff. “We’ve all done this a few times, Gatt.”  </p><p>The elf just shrugged a shoulder. A smirk pulled at his thin lips. “You’ve been living outside the Qun for years now, <em>Iron Bull. </em>Just wanted to make sure your reflexes hadn’t gotten as soft as the rest of you.”  </p><p>Dorian gave a rich laugh at that and Celia suppressed a smirk. Sera felt no such inclination and let out a loud snort of laughter. “He told you Bull!” she giggled. Bull just looked forward with a deadpan expression. “Ouch.” </p><p>They crept forward as the ground mostly levelled out. The trees were not as dense as she had feared. She tensed when she felt the Well whisper in the dredges of her mind. They had been quiet ever since Flemeth introduced herself, but now they stirred, sensing the danger before her. She held up a wrist, telling her party to stop.  </p><p>She moved silently forward, back coming to rest against the rough bark of the soaking tree as the rest of them followed suit, trusting her senses. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it slowly, straining her ears to hear movement. She held, and then she heard it. Slight murmuring, before her to the left. She peered around the tree and tried to spot him. She could now hear more than one voice.  </p><p>Two soldiers clad in white and black crossed before her. They did not wear the robes of mages and their conversation was unintelligible from this distance. Celia had an extremely limited understanding of Tevene so she could not translate what it was they were saying even if she heared them clearly. </p><p>She caught eyes with Sera and gestured with her head. She mouthed ‘Right’, and the Jenny nodded, an arrow swiftly nocked and ready. Celia inhaled before she quickly moved from out of cover and deftly took the shot. Her shot took out the soldier to the left and not even a second later an arrow found the second Venatori. They both let out a shocked little gasp, but fell silently, the thud of their bodies hitting the ground masked by the thunder and rain.  </p><p>They moved forward and as they passed the two soldiers, Celia looked down and noticed one was without a helm. Her arrow had pierced right through his throat, a strike which had most likely killed him instantly. He had the tell-tale sign of red lyrium corruption. Black and red veins crawling up his lower jaw and mouth blackened as if corrupted by Blight. Yet...he was so young. His face was not lined with age or facial hair. He could be no older than eighteen.  </p><p>A child playing at war.  </p><p>She swallowed a flash of bile and readied another arrow. They didn’t have time for her to get sentimental. He had made his foolish choice and had lived to see the consequences of them. Let the Maker decide his fate now.  </p><p>They continued moving forward until they spotted smoke up ahead. Several small firepits were clustered together and Celia counted at least eight Venatori. No mages could be seen from here but that did not mean they were not there.  </p><p>Bull came to her side, double handed axe in hand, “Vints up ahead.”  </p><p>Celia nocked another arrow, still watching all visible Venatori members. “We cannot let them warn the others.”  </p><p>They all nodded in agreement.  </p><p>“Quick and quiet.” Was her last order before Bull and Gatt rushed forward, crossing the remaining distance in seconds. The Venatori barely had a moment to think before they realised they were under attack and called orders to each other as they tried to repel the unexpected assault.  </p><p>Sera and Celia took positions around the camp, firing arrows into any stragglers and keeping them pinned down. Dorian swore to himself as he conjured lightning from his hands, the crackle and smell of ozone making Celia’s nose twitch.  </p><p>She drew another arrow, the slight red rune carved into the arrowhead flashing as she nocked and released seamlessly. The arrow found its target, a large brute of a man who had been charging at the Iron Bull from behind on his left blind side. The projectile penetrated his stomach, the grunt of pain audible over the pouring rain. The rune then exploded, causing his armour to melt from the intense heat from the fire rune. It did not kill him but then she had not intended to. She only meant to alert him to the Qunari as she returned fire to other targets.  </p><p>Bull swiftly turned, more gracefully than one might expect for a man of his size and stature and brought his deadly axe down with a sickening crunch into the large man. Dead.  </p><p>Sera gave a cackle as she launched her own assault, arrows flying faster and faster and always finding their targets. “Eat this piss-brain!” she laughed, chucking a small yellow grenade at the Venatori’s feet which coated them in a sticky oil like substance.  </p><p>Dorian was ready, and with a simply gesture of his hand, the oil caught alight and the three enemies it had coated, caught aflame. They did not have long to suffer however, as with another release of Celia and Sera’s arrows, the Venatori were struck down with a dying groan.  </p><p>That was the last of them, but the Inquisitor did not drop her guard, eyes scanning the trees to ensure that they were not caught by surprise in an ambush. They had been louder than she had wanted, but then with Sera and Bull at her side, ‘quiet’ was not exactly an option. She did not find anyone and so turned her attention to her allies.  </p><p>None of them had been injured, thankfully. Gatt and Bull had some mud and what looked like blood on their armour but then they had been in the thick of it, so it was to be expected. Sera was already rifling through the pockets of their fallen foes and bit a gold coin between her teeth. No visible injuries on her and Dorian came to her side again, hair slightly wind swept but untouched.  </p><p>“That was louder than anticipated but I don’t think anyone was alerted.” She told Gatt, as the man walked towards her.  </p><p>With a quick last look around they all moved forward once again, leaving the bodies for the crows. No one would mourn them here.  </p><p>“You must wish you were back in Tevinter, mage.” Gatt spoke up again, sword in hand as he stalked forward to her left. “No soldiers to guard you here. No slaves to wait on you.”  </p><p>Dorian clicked his tongue against his cheek. “It’s the lack of fashion that really strikes fear into my heart.” She gave him a reproachful look, even if she silently smiled to herself.  </p><p>“You know nothing of fear.” Gatt’s voice dropped, and Celia turned to look at him as she heard the threat. Could they not play nice for five minutes? </p><p>“And do you intend to teach me?” Dorian smirked, voice teasing even if his hands now clutched his staff tighter.  </p><p>“No. You serve the Inquisition and the Ben-Hassrath wish an alliance. For now, that is enough.”  </p><p>They exited the trees and found themselves on a cliff face, facing the coastline. Still no sign of the dreadnaught or the smugglers ship, so far, all was going relatively smoothly.  </p><p>Sera squinted as she held up a hand to stop the rain from falling into her eyes. “Can any of ya see the Chargers down there?” </p><p>“Not from here. Probably a better view once we take the Vints’ camp.” Bull replied, also watching the southern position where they knew Krem and his men to be. No signal yet.  </p><p>Gatt leant back on one hip as he wiped his sword down with the bracer on his arm. “Worried?” </p><p>“They’re my men. I’ve been with some of them for years.” They all took another look before they followed the cliff face further north. The trees were thinning out and so they had little cover to hide behind. The Venatori would spot them as soon as they crossed them, but then, the same was true in reverse. Celia and her companions were expecting a fight, whereas the Venatori remained oblivious to them being actively hunted. </p><p>Gatt spoke up again, surprising her slightly as she did not peg him as the type to make small talk on an assignment.  </p><p>“You’re not Dalish. Were you confined to an Alienage as a child?” </p><p>Sera spat on the ground. “Not for bloody long.”  </p><p>“You may be interested to know that Qunandar treats our kind far better than Ferelden or Orlais.” Celia had an idea on how Sera would respond to that kind of argument.  </p><p>“Nope. Not interested in how <em>you </em>want to treat <em>me."</em> If there was one thing Sera and Celia both agreed on, it was that people were people. Demanding someone fit an expected model of how they ‘should’ behave was a sure-fire way to get an arrow through the throat. For Sera, that threat was quite literal. Celia had Josie for that these days. Much cleaner. </p><p>“Perhaps another time, then.”  </p><p>They continued for several minutes before Celia held up her hand. The Well was whispering louder again, swelling in response to a threat she could not see. There was a slight incline to the hill, and she strained her ears to hear past the rush of wind and rain. There was nothing for a few moments, and then... Venatori.  </p><p>“We’re close. Get ready.” She warned, arrow ready.  </p><p>They crossed the hill at full sprint and just as expected, their assault was immediately spotted.  </p><p>“It’s the Inquisition!”  </p><p>Two men charged towards her with swords raised overhead and Celia fired an arrow through the throat of one. The second did not spare a look for his fallen comrade as he reached her, his blade swinging at her head. She dropped to her knees with a grunt, using the mud to slide backwards as she reached to her boot to throw a dagger at him. Her hit landed, the blade embedding itself in his arm. He let out a loud curse, but it did not stop him as he continued stomping towards her.  </p><p>Scrambling to her feet, she danced around his blade as he tried to hack at her, his mounting frustration causing his movements to become increasingly sloppy and obvious. She rushed forward, closing into his guard to his surprise and used her elbow to attack his exposed throat.  </p><p>The hit made the soldier hack a cough as she closed in once more, this time with her dagger in hand, her bow dropped to the ground. His eyes widened as he caught sight of her properly and he tried to cry, “It’s the Inquisitor!” but he never got the chance.  </p><p>With a swift twirl of her dagger, she sliced his throat, the mountain of blood making her grimace as the warm liquid coated her hand. His red eyes widened in shock before he stumbled back from her and collapsed to the ground, blindly reaching to clutch at his throat to stem the bleeding. His efforts were futile and within a few moments the ominous red light left his eyes. Dead.   </p><p>“DUCK!” Dorian cried and without thought she dropped to the ground again.  </p><p>An arrow whistled through the air where she had just been, and the mage blasted a bolt of purple lightning in the direction it had come from. It crashed into an archer who had skulked out of the trees, dark armour obscuring him from obvious notice. His body shook from the voltage of electricity, paralyzed but still very much alive. Before Dorian could finish him off, she scrambled for her bow and released an arrow. It landed to the right of another which Sera had just released from across the hillside. The archer fell backwards and was still. Dead.  </p><p>Swallowing thickly, Celia rose to her feet, bow in hand and arrow nocked again. Bull and Gatt were hacking and slashing at the ring of opponents they had drawn to them, their moves practiced and familiar.  </p><p>Dorian was aiming his attacks at an enchanter she had failed to notice while Sera assisted Bull and Gatt, the elf leaping into and out of danger with wily talent.  </p><p>Her friend swore when a green bolt of light hit his chest, causing him to faulter in his attacks. His staff embedded into the mud saved him from a potential fall and he clutched it with a white-knuckled grip. He did not appear harmed, just winded.  </p><p>Anger roared through her and she glided forward like a demon, her steps silent and eyes blazing with fury. No one hurt her friends.  </p><p>“Celia!” Dorian called, but she did not hear him.  </p><p>The Venatori enchanter caught sight of her and cast a flurry of spells her way. Bolts of light in red, green, yellow and white were thrown her way and she deftly twirled around each one, the Well guiding her movements without any effort. She soon reached him, and in desperation he swung his staff at her which she too dodged.  </p><p>He gave a grunt as she threw a knife at him which he managed to just deflect with the edge of his staff, the wood chipping under the sharp edge of silverite steel.  </p><p>“I don’t think so.” She darkly muttered when she caught him frantically whispering under his breath, a spell readying in his palm. With a cry she pushed forward, knee coming up to collide with the unprotected tissue of his stomach. His robes easily gave way and he fell back with a loud smack into the muck, staff rolling out of reach.  </p><p>She drew another dagger from her belt and knelt above him. Just as she was about to finish him, she cried out when he blindsided her with an attack as he swung his arm towards her face. She felt the nick of a piece of jewellery catch her cheek and swore as she tried to catch her bearing. She had not seen his attack due to the volume of his robes and grit her teeth at the throbbing she felt from her cheekbone.  </p><p>Blood dripped down her face as she pushed herself to her feet and pressed her boot to the mage’s back. He had tried to use her distraction to crawl towards his weapon but his soaked through robes had slowed him down and he had barely moved a few feet.  </p><p>She clutched the dagger still in her hands and with the roar of the Well in her ears, she brought it down with blinding force, the spine and soft tissue easily giving way to steel. His stuttered, pained gasp barely heard over her heart’s pounding, but it only took a few moments for him to go still. Dead.  </p><p>Wiping the blood and muck from her face she looked up to see that the fight was over, Bull dispatching the last of the soldiers with little effort. Dorian limped towards her, equally as winded as herself as he leaned heavily on his staff.  </p><p>“<em>Festis </em><em>bei </em><em>umo </em><em>canavarum</em>!” He swore as he gripped her shoulder, looking her over and wincing when he caught sight of the bruise that was already beginning to swell on her right cheekbone.  </p><p>“I had him.” Dorian scolded, dark eyes worried.  </p><p>“You were taking too long.” Celia panted, picking up her bow from the dirt. It was thankfully scratch free.  </p><p>Bull, who had just finished up the last of the soldiers, walked towards them, a bloody scratch on his left arm but otherwise unharmed. “You all right Boss?” He asked, gesturing towards her muddy face.  </p><p>“I’m fine.” She insisted, exhaustion weighing her limbs down as the rain continued to pour down on them from overhead. Adrenaline was fading and she could feel herself shiver slightly from the cold. Maker, was she tired. She was still recovering from the other night and this was certainly not helping her recovery.  </p><p>“Everyone else good?” She looked at the rest of them and they all gave her a nod in agreement.  </p><p>“Good. Looks like that was the last of them, but we should do a sweep just to make sure. I don’t want any nasty surprises.” They quickly did another round of the area, but they seemed to have caught the Venatori unawares. They could not know whether scouts had been sent out, but from the archer she had dispatched earlier, she doubted it. They must have caught them when they were all in camp.   </p><p>“We’re clear, Gatt.” Bull called. The elf had made his way to the cliff face, watching the shoreline for enemy movement. </p><p>“Right. Signalling the dreadnaught.” He produced a small pouch of powder and knelt by the fire. She watched with curiosity when the flames suddenly turned a bright red and a flare flew up into the air with a loud <em>whoosh </em>sound. Interesting. Celia had heard of the Qunari’s interest and specialty in gaatlok powder, but this seemed less explosive than she expected gaatlok to be. Perhaps it was something else? </p><p>“Chargers already sent theirs up. See ‘em down there?” Sera called. Celia looked out and followed her pointing hand and saw a distant red fire pit in the distance. She could just make out the Chargers who appeared to be patrolling diligently.  </p><p>“I knew you gave them the easier job.” Gatt threw over his shoulder. Bull just shrugged his shoulders. He never turned down a good fight and if that also happened to keep his boys out of harm's way, all the better.  </p><p>Out on the ocean a loud bell was heard, and Celia sucked in a breath as the dreadnaught came into view. It was huge, and the way it moved silently through the water like a ghostly spectre made a shiver run down her spine. She couldn’t imagine anything going against that ship and coming out alive.  </p><p>“There’s the dreadnaught. That brings back memories.” Bull sounded like a proud father. </p><p>From beyond the dreadnaught a smaller ship had emerged, sails lacking any insignias or emblems. It was about half the size of the dreadnaught and it was desperately trying to turn around. It proved useless as they had come too far in land. From the dreadnaught, two fiery balls fired, and they arched into the air before slamming into the side of the smuggling ship.  </p><p>Celia’s eyes were wide. So... that was gaatlok.  </p><p>Bull let out a loud laugh as he and Gatt slapped each other’s backs. The smugglers ship rocked violently from side to side, and she thought it would capsize for a moment. The main sail was now alight, and she could faintly see a gaping hole in the ship’s hull. A final blast from the dreadnaught finished them off for good. The blast exploded the hull, and the ship began to sink without ceremony, no doubt taking the smuggling crew down with it.  </p><p>Out of the corner of her eye she spotted movement and turned towards the coast. She frowned and nudged Dorian, “Do you see that?”  </p><p>The mage turned to where she gestured, and she could see his brows furrow. “Are those...” he said before he swore. </p><p>Celia shouted over her shoulder, feeling her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach.  </p><p>“Bull! Look, down there!” The warrior followed their gaze and squinted before he swallowed.  </p><p>“Crap.”  </p><p>Below them, over a dozen Venatori mages were moving across the beach. They were moving fast, any previous attempts at stealth abandoned, as they hurried to regain the closest camp. They were heading north, towards the vantage point that Krem and the rest of the Chargers were stationed!   </p><p>Celia’s previous exhaustion vanished, and a clawing sense of fear clung to her. The Chargers... they couldn’t hold against that many mages. Maybe if it had been usual foot soldiers but... Celia looked around and swore when she realised how far they were. They wouldn’t be able to reach them before the Venatori hit. They also could not signal the dreadnaught to fire upon the beach as surely such an assault would kill the Chargers as well, as they would be caught in the blast.  </p><p>Oh no... </p><p>“Your men can’t hold against that large a force.” She said, the words leaving her mouth like lead.  </p><p>Bull stood beside her, stock still. “No. They can’t.” He said quietly.  </p><p>Gatt looked from Bull to Celia and back. A stern look had entered the hard line of his mouth. “Your men need to hold that position, Bull.”  </p><p>The Qunari turned to his old friend, “They do that, they’re dead.”  </p><p>“And if they don’t, the Venatori retake it and the dreadnaught is dead. You’d be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari!” The agitated elf crossed so he stood in front of Bull. “You’d be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth. With all you’ve given the Inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath think you’ve betrayed us already! I stood up for you Hissrad. I told them you’d <em>never </em>become Tal-Vashoth.” The words left his mouth with fear as his words tripped over the other.  </p><p>“They’re my men.” Celia had never heard Bull sound so tortured, and she felt her heart clench.  </p><p>“I know...” Gatt placed a hand on the Qunari’s upper arm, as high as he could reach. “But you need to do what’s right, Hissrad... for this alliance, and for the Qun.”  </p><p>Sera turned from her spot on the ground. “What! You better be joking.” </p><p>Gatt didn’t turn to answer her.  </p><p>Sera stood and huffed a breath to get her uneven hair out of her face. “But... they’re the Chargers! Who cares about them Ben-Arseholes? Or some piss alliance? They’re one of us!” She turned to Celia but the Inquisitor did not look at her either.  </p><p>Celia kept her eyes on the beach as she swallowed behind the thick lump in her throat. They wouldn’t reach them in time. The Venatori were already halfway across the beach. It would take them mere minutes to cross the remaining distance and due to their magic, they could engage sooner than that estimate.  </p><p>She closed her eyes. Self-hatred swirled in her stomach as she realised the decision she had to make. They could not let the Venatori recapture the red lyrium. The smugglers ship still held the blighted stuff from where it had just picked it up from the Venatori and the ship had sunk not too far from the shoreline. It would not take an enormous undertaking for the Venatori to venture into the ocean and retrieve it. They were desperate enough to do such a thing and she knew that if they established a base camp, it would not take too long for them to get underway.  </p><p>She could get agents to clear them out, but not without delay. They were several miles from the Blades of Hessarian’s camp and her own agents stationed in the region were spread out to cover as much coastline as possible. It would take at least a few days to get word out and if the Chargers left their post, her agents would surely miss the opportunity to close this down for good. The Venatori would recover the red lyrium, head back underground and organise another shipment to Tevinter at another date. And next time... they may not catch them.  </p><p>Her agents were extremely talented, but they could not be everywhere at once and with Corypheus’ recent silence, she knew Leliana had pulled most of her agents back towards Skyhold as a precaution. They could easily miss the Venatori, who, from the way they moved and had positioned themselves across this part of the Storm Coast, had been here a while already and knew the area better than her agents did. No doubt the Venatori had caches and hidden caves to head underground in. Caves and holes that her agents would likely never find.  </p><p>Her mind suddenly conjured the image she had thought of earlier. A foaming seafront bleeding crimson as far as the eye could see, as blood flowed through the water. If that red lyrium entered Minrathous... it would be disastrous.  </p><p>She knew without a shred of doubt that the corrupted lyrium would be given to both soldiers and slaves who had no idea what the stuff could do, or taken by those who did not care about the damage it would unleash. Innocent slaves would digest it and turn into mindless husks, a weapon that the Magisterium could use and point at the crippled South. Mages, powerful enough in their own right, would become drunk on the potent lyrium and become an unstoppable force. No amount of Templar or military might could withstand the force of nature that was a mage overcome with their own abilities...  </p><p>It would be a blood bath and everything they had fought for until now would be <em>wasted</em>.  </p><p>The Chargers could kill enough of those mages to severely weaken the Venatori and buy her agents some time as the Tevinter mages would not have enough soldiers to re-secure the red lyrium.  </p><p>But the cost... the cost would be their lives. </p><p>She bowed her head and her lips trembled; fingers clenched as sorrow made her knees weak. She took a deep breath and looked Iron Bull in the eye. </p><p>“We need to hold that hill. At all costs.”  </p><p>The Qunari, who had been looking to her to provide him the answer she could clearly see he was struggling with, lost the spark in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. He then sighed, but he did not argue against her. He knew, as she did, why she had made the call that she had. </p><p>“Yeah.”  </p><p>Sera looked to each of them with eyes the size of dinner plates, disgust plain to see. “So that’s it then, issit? Just letting them die for <em>nothing!"</em> She turned to Bull. “They’re your friends! And you won’t even fight for ‘em ! ” Her blazing eyes turned to Celia  next, and the Marcher shuddered at the hatred she found swirling there. “And <em>you...  </em> some leader you are. Just the same as all the other big named knobheads. What’s a few lives eh? Some  shitty lives for some shitty alliance. You’re no better than Coryphytits.” She spat on the ground and walked away from them.  </p><p>Dorian reached to grab her hand, but she tugged away from him. She did not need to be protected from Sera’s wrath. The elf was right... and the self-hatred seeping through her skin was enough to make her want to vomit.  </p><p>She cast her gaze back to the beach and closed her eyes when she saw the Venatori reach the bottom of the hill the Chargers were stationed upon. It was over... even if she wanted Bull to sound the retreat, it was too late. </p><p>Gatt’s voice was quiet, and she could hear the regret in his voice clear as day. “Your men are giving their lives for a worthy cause, Hissrad.” </p><p>Bull just let out a wounded sound in the back of this throat. “No. <em>We’re </em>doing it for a good cause. Gaining an alliance, strengthening the Inquisition ... something. The Chargers don’t care about any of that crap. They’re giving their lives for <em>me.</em><em>” </em>  </p><p>The Venatori had just engaged, and she could faintly see the moving figures of the Chargers as they tried to defend their position. Unbidden, Krem’s face flashed before her and she felt a tear fall. The Tevinter’s smiling face as he handed her a soft little plushie. The cheeky smile he shared with her in response to Dorian’s complaining... the soft look in his eye when he talked about Marguerite.  </p><p>She clenched her teeth as his face was soon followed by Dalish’s, Rocky’s, Skinner’s and the rest of them. They had been her friends... and she was letting them die. </p><p>A large explosion was heard from below and Celia felt Dorian flinch beside her. “Celia.” she heard him mutter, as he moved to pull her away from the cliff edge. She did not follow. She would not disrespect the Chargers or Iron Bull by turning away from the consequences of her actions. They were being torn to pieces because she had made this call. She owed them this much... she owed it to them to see their final moments.  </p><p>It did not take more than a few agonizing minutes before the fight was over. The faint sounds of explosions fell away, and she could see from her position that at least half of the mages had fallen or were injured. They had done it and yet she felt no sense of victory. Just pain and disgust at herself.  </p><p>“Bull... I’m <em>sorry.</em><em>”  </em>She let a slight sob escape before she could help it. Dorian pressed himself tighter against her, not pulling or pushing, just letting her feel his support.  </p><p>Compared to her devastated face, Bull’s was remarkably calm. Like solid ice. Impenetrable. “It doesn’t matter. The Qun demanded it.” Hearing that made her hurt all over again because she knew that a part of Bull had died on this spot. The mercenary captain within him, the man who had laughed with her at the Tavern and who flirted shamelessly with every agent of the Inquisition had died, and in his spot stood Hissrad, Ben-Hassrath spy and Inquisition agent.  </p><p>“Dreadnaught’s clear. Let’s get out of here.”  </p><p>Bull did not look back as he marched away and Celia felt more tears fall down her face as she watched him.  </p><p>She turned once more to the coast and whispered, “I’m sorry” before she too walked away. </p><hr/><p>The ride back to Skyhold was quiet.  </p><p>The few remaining members of the Chargers, mostly comprising of the scouts who had remained at their base camp, trailed behind her silently. They had been told the news of the fall of their comrades. They took it with the shock and horror Celia could not bring herself to fully feel. She felt like a beast when she had felt their eyes flick towards her and then look away again, fear obvious in the way they moved away and avoided speaking to her.  </p><p>They knew this had been on her orders. She had allowed good men and women to die. The reason didn’t matter and wouldn’t matter to most. The result was the same – the Chargers were dead, and she had allowed it to happen.  </p><p>She had slipped into the tent at base camp and wavered at the sight of Scout Harding waiting for her. For a moment, a blazing anger had ignited in her stomach before she cast it aside. The scout was not to blame for what had happened, she alone could not have saved the Chargers from the Venatori, and would have ended up the same way as them.  </p><p>The entire operation had been one giant gamble, and despite the results being what they had been after, the cost of this victory made it almost too much to bear.  </p><p>“Leliana sent you?” she asked, very aware of the mud she was caked in and dragging through the tent. Harding nodded at her.  </p><p>“You know about-” she swallowed. “You know what’s happened?” Another nod was given.  </p><p>She turned to her pack resting on the simple wooden table and swiped it up, gathering the few things she had left in the tent from earlier that day. Her bow and daggers were a heavy weight upon her person, and she did not bother to change into warm or dry clothes. It would be useless anyway and would require more effort than she was prepared to use right now.  </p><p>“I want their bodies brought back to Skyhold.” She turned to the dwarf who had been watching her. “I-I want them to be given their last rites properly, respecting their traditions if possible.” Celia grit her teeth at the clear look of regret and understanding Harding gave her.  </p><p>“Of course, Inquisitor. I shall ask Bull if any special arrangements will be necessary. I’ve already sent word to the Blades of Hessarian about clearing out the remaining Venatori here. They should receive it in the next day or so.” Harding’s voice was soft, but the words still cut the young noble to the bone.  </p><p>“Good... good.” She muttered, tears clinging to her eyelashes but not falling. A vague numbness was creeping through her very being and she embraced it like an old friend. Feeling nothing was better than feeling the sorrow she felt right now.  </p><p>Their resulting journey back through the Frostbacks had been stilted. Celia kept herself to herself, rising first in the morning and retiring long after everyone had gone to bed. Dorian had tried to make her eat something, but the stew turned to ash in her mouth and after witnessing her dash to the bushes to be sick, he hadn’t tried again. She did not feel hunger or the cold anymore. Just a dark sense of emptiness. Sera was nowhere to be seen, but Harding assured her that the elf had taken her mount and ridden off before them. Whether she would return to Skyhold, Celia did not know.  </p><p>Gatt had trailed behind the mercenary band, watching their progression with regret but she knew he had been satisfied by the outcome. Bull had shown his commitment to the Qun, and now an alliance was to be made between their factions. The elf had already sent several ravens away with reports of their success, and he accompanied them now to Skyhold to await his formal instructions.  </p><p>The agent had tried to talk to her several times, but she returned his questions with monosyllabic words and he too had let her be. Gatt now stuck close to Bull, but the Qunari was silent as the grave, face like stone and body unwavering.  </p><p>Their arrival at Skyhold was a quiet affair, only a few coming to greet them personally. Cassandra had walked towards her with determination but wavered at the sight of her appearance. She was dirty and dusty from travel but the bruise on her cheekbone was now fully visible and its purple appearance highlighted the dark circles under dull eyes. The Seeker had gestured to come towards her, but Celia just turned away, directing Almira towards the stable and letting a nervous stable hand take her away for a thorough brush down. She had lifelessly slid from the saddle and slipped away from the group, slinking her way through the kitchens and towards her quarters, ignoring the squeak of surprise Cook let out at the sight of her.  </p><p>She had remained in her room for the next two days, silent. Several knocks on her door had gone ignored, and all food trays went un-eaten. Cassandra, Josephine and Leliana had all tried to coax her from her isolation, but she had dismissed them.  </p><p>But now she stood with her back towards the stained-glass windows in the War Room, Gatt and Bull on the other side of the table, with a piece of parchment on the table, written in dark crimson ink with the stamp of the Ben-Hassrath at the bottom of the page.   </p><p>“Inquisitor, my superiors have named you <em>basalit-an</em>. It means ‘respected one.’ We would be honoured to join you in your fight against Corypheus. You’ll have Qunari support on the seas, as well as our full intelligence network.” Gatt informed her, hands behind his back and chin raised in respect.  </p><p>Celia took the parchment and read through the contents without an expression. Her eyes caught the sentence, ‘<em>We understand this decision did not come without consequences, but you have shown yourself a worthy leader by p</em><em>lacing the greater good before personal feelings.'  </em>She resisted the urge to tear the letter in half.  </p><p>“I look forward to working with your people, Gatt. We can do a lot of good with your aid.” she said quietly, still unable to look the elf in the eye.  </p><p>Gatt seemed to waver, aware that thanks were inappropriate at this moment. “The feeling is mutual Herald. I have been instructed as to my next assignment so I shall be departing the Keep within the next few hours. However, I have been instructed to inform you that you should receive a status update within the next two days. The Ben-Hassrath are eager to get to work.”  </p><p>She nodded. </p><p>Gatt turned towards his old friend and lowered his head. “Hissrad... <em>Marasas shokra</em>.” he muttered lowly in Qunlat.  </p><p>“<em>Panahedan</em>, Gatt.” Was the even response given.  </p><p>The elf looked like he was about to say more but thought better of it. He gave her little bow of his head and walked away. She doubted she would ever see him again.  </p><p>“A Qunari alliance. That’s a first.”  </p><p>She turned her attention to Iron Bull. He was like a mirror, polished and hardened into stone. In contrast, Celia felt like the shattered reflection, breaking into as many pieces as possible whilst desperately trying to maintain the mask of Inquisitor.  </p><p>She wavered, hands clutching at the letter in her hand, a corner tearing from her harsh grip.  </p><p>“I had no idea it would cost you the Chargers, Bull... I’m <em>sorry</em>.” The words felt hollow. There would never be enough words in the common tongue to express the remorse and sorrow she felt for her friend. Nor would there be words in any language to communicate the depth of her self loathing over this decision.  </p><p>“It was always a risk.” </p><p>“Bull-” </p><p>“I told you before, Inquisitor. My people choose our leaders not from the strongest or the wisest. We choose those who can make the tough decisions and live with the consequences. That’s what you did. You have been named basalit-an and now the Qunari have made strives forward. You should be proud of that.” The man stood before her was like a puppet, words leaving his lips as if controlled by another.  </p><p>The way he stood so calm and collected, if anything, made her feel even worse. She would have accepted if he had shouted and raved in anger and hatred. She would have accepted the blows to her body and the spit of disgust for letting innocent people die because the wider mission was too important. But none of that happened. He was as still as water in a pond and his words made it clear that the gap between them had widened beyond all measures.  </p><p>Iron Bull was no longer a friend... he was now another tool at her disposal, and she despised the way that it had been on her orders that it had happened.  </p><p>Bull left the War Room, the door closing quietly behind him. And in the following silence, Celia let a tear fall. </p><hr/><p>She returned to her quarters hours later and stood in the centre of the large space for a moment. Her mind felt sluggish, and her body ached as she turned around, cheekbone giving a dull thud from the bruise.  </p><p>Her stomach let out a loud rumble, but she dismissed it. She had not eaten something for nearly three days now, but the idea of food made her swallow back acid. Her entire body felt like it had been given a beating, but she desperately fought sleep. Dreams slid in nightmares these days and the concept of facing the shadowy figures in her sleep caused her heart to race all over again. There was no rest for her.  </p><p>She turned towards the desk and her breath caught when she spotted the small vase filled with yellow roses left there. Air escaped her lungs with a wet noise from her mouth as she stumbled towards them. With a heavy <em>thump </em>her hands rested on the oak countertop and her focus narrowed down to the small delicate roses in front of her.  </p><p>They had not been there when she had left for the meeting in the War Room. The fresh fragrance told her that they had only been picked less than a day or so ago. She brushed a trembling fingertip across a petal leaf and whimpered when it did not disintegrate at her touch. How could something so pure withstand her presence? All she seemed to bring was death.  </p><p>Suddenly, the door to her quarters crashed open, the thick wooden door bouncing off the masonry. Thunderous steps marched up the staircase but she could not find it in herself to turn around. The yellow roses captivating her.  </p><p>“Oi!” It was Sera, the elf was out of breath from the stairs. Celia did not turn around.  </p><p>“I’m talking to you.” The elf moved closer towards her back. “You promised me you’d be different. You promised you wouldn’t be like all the other noble shit bags who uses people and punches down. But that’s exactly what you are!” </p><p>Celia was silent.  </p><p>“The Chargers yeah? They were good people. They helped us! And you just let them die so you could feel all good about yourself and the Inquisition. Never mind the little guy, right? Never mind the little people who get stomped on in your ‘Game’. You don’t care about that. You don’t care that we had to help some stupid knifey shiv dark Qunari spy to get the help of more knifey shiv dark Qunari spies! We didn’t need them! Queen Stabby has done fine all on her own until now. But it doesn’t matter anymore does it. They’re dead.”  </p><p>The Marcher’s heart pounded against her ribcage.  </p><p>“You didn’t even try! You just stood there and accepted it!” Sera was shouting now, her words loud and echoing off the walls and Celia couldn’t take it anymore.  </p><p>“I’M TRYING!” She whirled around, eyes red and teary. A flush sat high on her bruised cheekbones as she helplessly flailed her hands about. “I’m trying <em>everything </em>I can to help as many people as possible! The Chargers needed to hold that hill otherwise thousands of Tevinter soldiers would have come marching through Orlais by next summer! I’m trying everything I can, can’t you see that?” she pleaded.  </p><p>“It isn't good enough.” Was the response spat at her and Celia turned her head away as if she had been struck. The tears finally fell thick and fast down her cheeks and she slid down to the floor so her back rested against the desk, knees drawn up tight to her chest as she willed herself to breathe.  </p><p>Sera stomped towards her so she stood over the hunched Inquisitor, her ripped and threadbare leggings a blurry mess of colour in Celia’s vision.  </p><p>“You’re not trying. You’ve never tried. All you’ve ever done is make stupid decisions that any normal person would’ve run away from. You say shit like you ‘had’ to make those decisions, but you didn’t. It just makes you sound like a right arse and like every shitheel ever. People always end up hurt and its always your fault.” Celia just lowered her head into her arms as the verbal assault continued.  </p><p>Flashes of Krem and the other Chargers appeared before her, but alongside them was the images of Clarel, Loghain, Felix, Abelas... face after face of those whose deaths she had witnessed or been a part of.  </p><p>“Look at you now! Crying and shite and you’ve not once even said you’re sorry! I-” </p><p>“That. Is. Enough.” A voice commanded from the stairwell. It was ice cold and a dangerous threat rumbled beneath it.  </p><p>Sera took a step back, but Celia did not look up, the faces of the dead haunting her mind.  </p><p>“Obviously you’d take<em> her </em>side. Lady Shiv Dark herself! What's another few deaths on your total innit? Don’ matter about their names or friends, not when you’ll just replace ‘em with someone else.” </p><p>Leliana crossed the room silently as she stood before Sera. The Nightingale was not tall by any means, barely taller than the elf herself, but her rage caused her body to swell in size as her fury crackled like lightning.  </p><p>“If you want to keep that little tongue of yours, I advise you to leave this room now, and never return.”  </p><p>The elf wavered as she felt the cloying sense of fear invade her for the first time. Stabby was not someone to cross, but her anger, hurt and frustration urged her to continue.  </p><p>“No one else will say it but I will! Every time we can do something good she always cocks it up! And now you all stand there and tell us to accept it, but I won’t.”  </p><p>Leliana eyes flashed as she stepped forward, so she stood practically nose to nose with the Jenny. “No? Well, if you won’t accept the Inquisition’s decisions, then you have no business being in this Keep. You know where the gate is.” Her voice was deceptively light, but the way her upper lip curled told the deeper anger which remained hidden at the moment.  </p><p>Sera gestured towards the still crouched form of Celia, “She always makes it all about her yeah? But if she does that, how will I play? How will things get back to normal if she keeps doing weird shite? I need things to get back to normal.”  </p><p>Leliana leant forward causing Sera to take a small step backwards. “I have warned you before Sera, of the thin line you are treading with the Inquisitor. The Inquisition is not a charity, nor is it a place where people come to have <em>fun</em>. We are here to answer the threat of Corypheus. We are here because intelligent men plot the downfall of the South and we are all that stands between them and their goals.” </p><p>Sera’s body contorted to keep herself from brushing against the form of the Spymaster who kept advancing. “Your childish games have been accommodated for until now. But your interference with Rainier went too far and I told you that if you stepped out of line again, I would not hesitate to slit your throat. And you seemed to listen...yet here I find you berating the Inquisitor as if she was some street urchin whom you could bully.” Leliana’s voice was a whisper now.  </p><p>“No. I will not allow it. You are an idiot child playing at a game you do not understand. Your welcome has worn out. Leave. Now. Before I <em>make </em>you leave.”  </p><p>Sera looked from the menacing face of the Orlesian to the hunched form of the Inquisitor. “Knew it.” She spat. She huffed as she stormed towards the stairs. “Good luck Inquisitor. Good luck not being worse than losing.”  </p><p>Celia remained still on the floor, her thin arms wrapped around her knees as her bruised fingers picked at the thread of the cuff of her sleeve. She rocked herself back and forth as she hid her face in her arms, heavy breaths hot against her face as she tried to stop herself from breaking entirely.  </p><p>“Oh Celia...” Leliana’s voice was no louder than a sweet whisper as she knelt beside her on the floor.  </p><p>“I’m trying.” She whispered fervently to herself. “I’m trying. I <em>am.</em>”  </p><p>A soft arm wrapped around her shoulders and Celia was tugged forth until she rested against Leliana’s chest. The hold made her shudder as the Spymaster tugged her blonde hair back from her face with a gentleness she hadn’t known in so long. “I know <em>ma </em><em>chéri</em><em>. </em>I believe you.”  </p><p>Celia shook her head, hands clutching at the leather armour of the redhead. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t want them to die, but they needed to hold that hill. I promise. They needed to-” She broke off with a whimper and fell silent, the lump in her throat proving too great.  </p><p>“Shhh, <em> je </em> <em> suis </em><em>là pour toi</em>. <em>Respirer</em><em>.</em>” </p><p>They rocked back and forth for a moment, Leliana holding Celia tight against her as she fought the urge to hunt down Sera and murder her. Celia was so fragile. So delicate against her. She had never seen her so distraught.  </p><p>When she had walked up the staircase, the sight of the door swung wide open had made fear flash through her and she had raced up the last few flight of steps. She had not been sure what she had been expecting to find, but the sight of Sera shouting at the hunched over and crying form of Celia Trevelyan had certainly never crossed her mind. She had only heard the last few words when she made herself known, but in that time she had more than made up her mind about the Red Jenny.  </p><p>After the whole situation with Rainier, Leliana had taken it upon herself to spare Celia the trouble and had taken the elf aside for a little word. The elf was clearly terrified of her and Leliana had been convinced that no more action would be necessary. The pranks against the guards had stopped and Sera had been quiet for the last few days.  </p><p>To see Celia on her knees, crying and in great emotional distress had been the final straw. No one would hurt Celia on her watch. <em>No one.  </em> </p><p>She pressed a firm kiss to the top of Celia’s head as she felt her calves burning from where she remained crouched. She brought her other arm around Celia, and slowly lifted them up from the floor. But she did not move away, keeping them pressed against each other, with Celia standing between Leliana’s thighs as she endeavoured to keep them as close as possible.  </p><p>Leliana held Celia’s bandaged right hands in hers and brought them to their chests, the hand warm and soft in hers.  </p><p>“I think you and I need to get away from the Keep for a while, wouldn’t you say?” She kept her voice light and quiet, reassuring, as she pressed the younger woman more firmly against her, the curves of their hips slotting together effortlessly. Celia just remained slumped against her, exhausted.  </p><p>“You’ve been so busy and so stressed. You deserve a break from all of this.” Leliana dropped Celia’s hand so she could brush her thumb against the Inquisitor’s cheeks, eyes worryingly examining the purple bruise on her right cheekbone. Protectiveness swelled within her at the sight of Celia so visibly harmed but she pushed that down, peering closer at the injury. The angle of the cut informed her it was made by a ring of some kind. It did not appear too serious, but the bruise would remain for a few days. It was already going yellow around the edges, a good sign, she told herself.  </p><p>Celia unconsciously nuzzled her face into Leliana’s warm palm as she wavered on her feet. She would never have allowed the bard to see her like this before, but right now, she could not bring herself to move away. Leliana’s hands was so soft, and the strong but gentle hold she had on her lower back was a grounding and comforting presence.  </p><p>“I was going to tell you later, but now seems as good a time as any.” Leliana let a small smile cross her face. “I received a letter, informing me of something left in my name in Valence. Do you know where that is?” She asked. Celia shook her head against her, too tired to use words.  </p><p>The redhead hummed, “It’s a small place in Orlais, just south of Cumberland. I haven’t been there in years, but I must leave to see what has been left.” Here the older woman hesitated. “Would-would you come with me?”  </p><p>Celia finally looked up. Standing so close together, she studied her Spymaster more closely. The Marcher had always been petite, even before her transformation. She stood slightly shorter than Leliana, who herself was not tall by human standards. Cassandra towered over both of them, she knew. Leliana’s defined cheekbones sat high with a dashing of freckles over her slight nose. On anyone else they would come across as comely, but on the Orlesian, they were delightfully charming. Celia had been enchanted by them ever since she had noticed them back in Haven. Her face was lined by only the lightest of age lines, mostly around her eyes and mouth. She did not look a woman ten years her senior, Celia thought, slightly embarrassed to be seen in such a dishevelled and bruised state, next to this beauty.   </p><p>There were moments when she felt truly inconsequential compared to the woman stood before her. Her Spymaster commanded such an aura of authority and mystery, it was difficult to not feel gravitated towards her. Celia doubted she would ever stumble across Leliana as vulnerable as she was right now. She worried for a moment that Leliana would think less of her now, but the gentle and warm affection in her baby blue eyes reassured her differently. As usual, Leliana did not judge, as she understood. She was perhaps one of the only women in the world who could understand what was going through her mind right now.  </p><p>Celia sniffed, eyes itching from her earlier tears, but she did not rub them. She reached down and this time held her hand in hers, letting their fingers tangle together. “I will come with you.” She answered quietly.  </p><p>The Orlesian gave her a bright smile, white teeth sparkling at her as Leliana pressed them firmly together. The redhead leant her forehead against her own, making Celia’s breath hitch. “<em>Merci</em>, <em>ma </em><em>chéri</em><em>.”  </em> </p><p>Celia closed her eyes and bit her inner cheek as she continued to rest against the slightly taller bard. She knew she should ask more questions about where exactly it was they were going and who the letter Leliana had received had been written by, but she could not find it in herself to care. She was so tired. She was filled with so much anger and sadness, both directed at herself and at the wider world. She was... exhausted.  </p><p>But with the strong arms of Leliana’s lithe frame, she found herself finding some measure of comfort, even if she did not know for how long it would last. She hoped, desperately, that it would be a while.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:<br/>Katari (Chapter Title): One who brings death.<br/>Festis bei umo canavarum: You will be the death of me.<br/>Ma cheri: My darling<br/>je suis là pour toi: I’m here for you<br/>Respirer: Breathe </p><p> </p><p>So... that happened. I'm so sorry! I love the Chargers and I really did try to come up with another way to avoid this but this option is entirely in line with Celia's thinking as Inquisitor. I hope her thoughts expressed the clear struggle she's having with the decisions she's having to make and the regret she feels. The short conversation at the war table honestly made me tear up as I tried to capture the shift in Bull's character. </p><p>I also apologise to any Sera fans out there. I will be entirely honest and admit I find her to be one of the most obnoxious characters BioWare has ever created. She is the literal antithesis of myself, so I struggled to find a way to express her fears whilst keeping in line with her very 'Sera' orientated mindset and in line with her particular manner of speech. Do let me know if it needs some work! Whilst I find her insufferable, she is also a good base line on how the 'common people' view Celia. We already see a bit of this in the way the remaining Chargers react to her and I plan to explore this a bit further going forward. </p><p>The only saving grace for this depressing chapter is of course, our gal Leliana &lt;3 </p><p> </p><p>Sorry for the long A/N but I felt like sharing a bit of my thought process with this one. As usual, comments, constructive feedback, kudos and bookmarks etc., are all welcomed! x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Preparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Celia and Leliana prepare to depart Skyhold, but before they do, a new Commander must be chosen.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... it's been a minute hasn't it? I just want to express my deepest thanks for all of you who continued to read and leave kudos etc. Knowing I had to stop writing made me fear that interest in this story would disappear but that didn't happen at all &lt;3 When I last updated this story it had less than a 1000 hits and here we are at 1.7k! </p><p>I can't apologise for the pause in updates as I really did need to focus on my education and I cannot promise there won't be a slight gap after this chapter. My exams are in the second week of May so until that time, my ability to write (and to write well) is going to be compromised. </p><p>Huge thanks and shout out to Wyrd Sonder - whose conversation and indulgence in my writer's worries helped me get over my shake in confidence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Knocking another arrow, she inhaled, deep and slow, letting her mind settle as her eyes focused on the target. <em> One...two...three. </em>She exhaled and released, watching it pierce straight into the centre of the target alongside the other dozen arrows already there. A smile tugged at the corner of her lip before she winced, the bruise on her cheekbone twinging with pain.  </p><p>Pulling another arrow from her quiver, she settled again into her stance and felt the familiar and welcome burn from her muscles as she pulled the bowstring back. The fatigue came faster than she would have liked, but her lack of appetite lately caused her limbs to shake from the strain. She would have to get better at that if she did not want to risk her combat effectiveness. Heir would scold her for her negligence if she knew. With her legs straight, weight distributed through her hips and feet shoulder width apart, she inhaled again. All thoughts fell away into a faint din, the only thing that mattered to her now was the target.  </p><p><em> ‘I’m sorry Bull.’  </em> </p><p><em> ‘Apologies Your Worship, but The Iron Bull has requested that you not attend the </em><em>service.’ </em> </p><p>‘<em>Good luck not being worse than losing.' </em> </p><p><em> ‘</em><em>You ‘ </em> <em> aven’t </em><em>even said sorry!’ </em> </p><p>Voices of doubt, worry and anger slipped through her fingers like sand and the silence was a welcomed change. The fletching of her arrow brushed her cheek as she adjusted for the slight breeze that swept through the nearby trees, the rustling leaves creating a peaceful backdrop that pleasantly tickled her ear drum. </p><p>With another slow and steady exhale, she released the arrow in a seamless motion and once again the projectile was sent straight into the target’s centre.  </p><p>“You’re very good at that.” A voice spoke from behind her. Turning her head, Celia nodded in greeting to Jim, the Inquisition runner who always looked harried no matter the time of day.  </p><p>“Thank you, Jim. What can I do for you?” She settled her bow on the small table to her right and took a sip from the waterskin attached to her belt.  </p><p>The agent took a step forward and passed along a small neat and pressed letter, enclosed with Josephine’s personal seal. Tearing the note open she flicked her eyes across the page quickly before she tucked the note into her pocket.  </p><p>“Thank you for delivering this. I trust all has been prepared?”  </p><p>“Yes, Your Worship. They await you now in the War Room. I have also been informed that preparations for your departure are nearly done but will be a few hours yet. Master Dennett apologises for the delay, but a mare had a difficult birth last night and he has been kept busy around the clock trying to take care of them.” Celia gave the man a small smile and the one she got in return surely hurt his face. Jim was young and knew by now that her silence was not necessarily a sign of displeasure, but no one liked telling their boss that they were being delayed. Young and eager hands twitched to help her, but she was glad he refrained from doing so. From the lack of callouses on his exposed hands and loud footsteps, he had never had any formal weapon training. She wouldn’t want him to accidently hurt himself.  </p><p>He was just beginning to grow some chin hairs and she laughed to herself over how proud he must be of that feat. He may have been only a few years her junior but looking at the easy smile and lack of bags around his eyes made her feel eons older.  </p><p>“I understand. Let Master Dennett know that he can take all the time he requires. If needs be, I can prepare the horses.” </p><p>“My lady!” Jim spluttered. “There’s no need for that. I’m sure if Master Dennett cannot assist you someone else could.”  </p><p>The Inquisitor gathered up the last of her items and put her practice bow on the rack with the rest of them. Her training session had come to an end and she briefly lamented the quiet solitude she had gotten. However, there was too much to do before their departure for her to linger any longer.  </p><p>She started the trek back to the main keep, thoughts racing as she lingered on Josephine’s missive. “I may be the Inquisitor, Jim, but I can prepare my horse by myself.” </p><p>Huffing, the young agent hurried to keep pace with her quick stride. “I never meant it like that Your Worship! I’m sure you are more than qualified, I mean-” He stammered desperately trying not to offend her.  </p><p>Letting out a laugh she stopped and turned to him, letting her hands rest gently on his shoulders, despite the height he had on her. “I know, Jim. Relax.”  </p><p>His large brown eyes looked at her for a moment before he nodded, tension bleeding from his shoulders. He still avoided looking at her face, but Celia knew he did it out of politeness rather than fear. Her vivid blue and green eyes were a lot to handle and the bruise on her cheek was still healing.   </p><p>“Please inform Master Dennett of my assurances and then head on over to the tavern for a rest. You look like you could do with some food and I’m sure Cabot will be happy to oblige.”  </p><p>“I’m not sure Cabot knows what happiness is-” Jim started before he realised who he was talking to, Celia held back a smirk. “I mean,” Jim coughed, “of course Your Worship! Right away.” He turned and took off at a brisk jog, nearly colliding into some of the training dummies before he corrected himself. She shook her head in fondness and tried to ignore how she dropped her smile as soon as he faced away from her. Turning once more to the Keep, she lengthened her stride. There was work to be done and little time to do it.</p><hr/><p>“Thank you, Knight-Captain for your time. After consideration, myself and the rest of my War Council believe it best if you remain in your current position for the moment. The men at Griffon Keep speak highly of you and such respect has not gone unnoticed. You have permission to remain here for the next sennight before I require you to travel back to the Western Approach.” </p><p>Rylen’s features were relaxed as he took the news, but she detected the slightest hint of relief in the corners of his eyes. The Starkhavener bowed his head and saluted her, fist coming to rest on his chest. “I appreciate that, Inquisitor. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather head straight back to the Approach. Who knows what those muck-rakers have gotten up to in my absence.” He lamented, and she knew he was already creating new duty rosters and guard schedules in his head.  </p><p>She let out a slight laugh. “Of course, Captain. I wish you well on your journey.” </p><p>“Maker be with you, Herald.” He turned on his heels and marched out the room, the thick oak door thudding shut behind him.  </p><p>“He took that very well.” Celia turned to Josephine. The Antivan looked up from her clipboard. </p><p>“Yes. From our interviews with him we understood that Captain Rylen has never desired the position of Commander and believes himself to be more of a follower than a leader.”  </p><p>“It takes a certain type of person to admit as such. Rylen has done good work in the Approach and I’m not sure anyone else could have whipped those recruits into shape so quickly.” Cassandra added, arms crossed over her chest as she followed the road from Skyhold to the Western Approach with her eyes. It was a long and dangerous road. Celia hoped Rylen’s journey was swift and peaceful.  </p><p>Perhaps sensing her thoughts, Leliana crossed her arms behind her back and said, “The roads have been quiet and the strong Inquisition presence seems to be doing much for deterring bandits. Rylen’s return to the Approach should be easier than when you made the journey.” At the Spymaster’s reassurance Celia took her eyes from the map and glanced back at the door. Her enhanced hearing picked up words being murmured outside before the knock came.  </p><p>“Let us see how our other candidate takes the news.”  </p><p>She called her permission to enter and the door opened once more. The new figure strode in, back straight and hair neatly pulled into a high bun, granting a measure of severity to an already stern face. Celia took in the woman before her with curiosity, this being the first time she got to look at the respected knight whom Josephine and Cassandra had been so impressed by.  </p><p>Their opinion of Ser Cauthrien had been that she was a firm but not unyielding soldier, who took a general no-nonsense approach to her work. She possessed a deep sense of loyalty to those she found worthy of respect, but this loyalty had been tempered by her previous blind obedience to the then Teryn Loghain. Trained in both formal and informal combat due to her scattered upbringing, Ser Cauthrien’s achievements were many and her ascension to her respected roles had been hard fought. She was an impressive woman indeed.  </p><p>The face of the knight was admittingly quite plain. She possessed none of Cassandra’s fierce angles or Cullen’s charming good looks. But despite this, she possessed a solid gaze that did not roam her face or ears. The armour she wore was decorated, no doubt due to her previous position as the head of Anora’s Queen’s Guard, but it could never be called gaudy. No fur or cape hung from her shoulders, and the sword which sat at her hip was equally as understated. Celia was aware that Ser Cauthrien favoured greatswords, but that was no doubt impractical to carry out day-to-day.</p><p>The Ferelden looked at her with the level headedness of a trained soldier and Celia found herself approving before the older woman had even opened her mouth.  </p><p>“Your Worship.” Ser Cauthrien’s voice was respectful as she saluted her with a fist to the chest and a bow of her head. Her voice was not as deep as Celia had been expecting, but the military precision with which she stood to attention reminded her of her father and brothers. Some habits remained, no matter how long a person went between battles. Here was a woman who knew her own power and capabilities, but who was not too prideful to acknowledge Celia’s own position of authority. The Free Marcher had had several instances where she had been dismissed due to her relatively young age and small stature, and Cauthrien had unknowingly already passed her first test.  </p><p>“Ser Cauthrien, thank you for joining us. I am honoured to meet you at last.” Celia bowed her own head, hands coming to rest together at the bottom of her back as she focused on the older woman.  </p><p>“The pleasure is mine, Inquisitor. I had heard many things about your Inquisition, but seeing it up close, the rumours did not do it justice. You have built something truly incredible.” It was not empty platitudes that the knight offered, slate grey eyes were steady and held an openness that Celia found herself trusting. She sometimes forgot how Skyhold welcomed newcomers every day. Much of the grandiosity of the fortress had worn off on her. This Keep was now her home, for as much as a military keep can be a home anyway.  </p><p>“Indeed, but as all of us here know, the work is not over yet.” Cassandra and Josephine straightened at her side and if Celia was not mistaken, she detected a hint of approval cross the Ferelden warrior’s face – it seemed she too had passed some form of test.  </p><p>“Quite right, Inquisitor.”  </p><p>Celia gestured to the women beside her, “I trust you recognise all of us, but for formalities sake, to my right is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, and to my left stands our chief diplomat Lady Montilyet and beside her, our Spymaster, Sister Leliana.”  </p><p>For a moment, she felt like laughing with some delirium, as these exact introductions had been given to <em>her </em>back in Haven.  </p><p>Cauthrien nodded her head once more, with her eyes lingering on the silent form of Leliana. “A pleasure.” </p><p>Letting her shoulders drop slightly now that the formalities were over, Celia leant forward, hands resting on the War Table with the map brushing her covered fingertips.  </p><p>“It has not escaped your notice that we stand without a Commander. I have relieved Ser Cullen of his post, but I cannot leave my army without a commanding officer for much longer. Corypheus may have remained silent for a while now, but this does not mean the war has stopped. You have made a lasting impression on this War Council, Ser Cauthrien. Your military record is exemplary. Queen Anora has not been conservative with her praise for your work and your loyalty.” The Knight took this information with a passive face, no bashful blush or boastful raise of her chin. ‘<em>Promising’, </em>Celia thought to herself.  </p><p>She looked at the older woman with a stern gaze, “You are, in fact, our leading candidate to assume this post – with your consent of course.” Again, no reaction.  </p><p>Celia stood up straight. “However, I require some personal reassurances before I can agree to offer this role.”  </p><p>The Knight looked her up and down for a moment, “I assume these reassurances would come in the form of knowing my opinion on mages, magic, Templars and elves?”  </p><p>Clever. Ser Cauthrien had obviously picked up on the questions Cassandra and Josephine had subtly been required to ask at Celia’s insistence. They could not afford to go through another Commander like Cullen. Too much time had been wasted already on this – they were incredibly fortunate that the Tevinter Magister had remained silent, licking his wounds after the Temple of Mythal.  </p><p>“Yes.”  </p><p>Josephine stepped forward, quill in hand ready to note down anything of interest. “Ser Cauthrien, when we met previously you never mentioned your thoughts regarding the Templar and Mage conflict. In fact, I could find very little in terms of your opinion on this matter.”  </p><p>Cauthrien turned to the darker skinned woman. “You would be right on that ma’am. Before, I was a soldier charged with protecting Her Majesty, Queen Anora. It was not my place to express opinions on these matters.” </p><p>“And now?” Celia had not missed her phrasing. </p><p>“Now... I believe that no side was innocent. Templars have no doubt overstepped many times on mage freedoms out of fear rather than rationality. But I also have no doubt that mages have harmed many innocents, Templar or no, in their desire for freedom.” A solid answer, one that Celia could respect.  </p><p>“And Most Holy’s Conclave?” Cassandra asked from her right.  </p><p>Here the Knight shook her head lowly. “I had much respect for Divine Justinia. Orlesian she may have been, but she had always treated the royal family and Fereldens with every courtesy. I cannot say whether I believe the Conclave would have succeeded or not. She was asking much of both sides. But...” she paused, “I would<em> like </em>to believe that some good could have come of it.” </p><p>The Seeker solemnly voiced her agreement. They would never know how different the world could have been had Justinia succeeded. Perhaps it <em>had</em> been too much to ask. The Templars, led by Lord Seeker Lucius had shown no sign of granting leniency and the mages risked their very freedom if they gave any opening to negotiation. Celia remembered sitting across the table in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, her brothers on the one side, Olivia on the other and herself and the other neutral representatives in the middle. The glares had been fierce on both sides and many brawls had nearly broken out. Her brothers had not even <em>looked </em>at Olivia and had refused to speak to Celia after she took them aside and begged them to return home. They had been as steel – cold and unyielding. The mages would be brought to heel. For them, there had been no other choice.  </p><p>“You no doubt are also aware as to the Inquisition’s alliance with the mages. Grand Enchanter Fiona remains an important figure who is consulted on matters of the arcane, alongside other magic users, both Circle mages and those who were once considered apostates. Would you agree to work with us, when the need arises?” Celia let her eyes drift to the map and unbidden, she caught sight of the small red dot that signified Redcliffe. The place where she had truly begun to understand how powerful the forces at play had been. How small the game had seemed at the time. How limited the battlefield had felt, when in reality the Venatori held influence over the span of Thedas. Alexius’ plot was but one of hundreds in motion.  </p><p>“I am no mage, Inquisitor Trevelyan, and the enemy we fight is a mage. If there is any advantage we can get on the blighted creature, then it would be foolish to waste that opportunity. I may have once hesitated to work with apostates, but the Circles no longer exist. All mages are now apostates. So long as you trust them and there are systems in place to ensure the mages withstand possession, I see no need to worry over things that<em>may</em>happen.”  Celia had to restrain herself from smiling. How very practical, how very solider-like of the  o lder woman and yet it was an attitude she had been hoping to hear. Too  long had the world been caught  up  in labels and boxes which no longer existed. The Circles had fallen, and whilst their future still hung in the balance, that should not stop people from acting<em>now.</em> The world was in chaos. Fighting bat tles which no longer mattered wasted time, resources and manpower, precious commodities in times like this. ‘<em>They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot’</em> as Cass had once told her.  </p><p>“An honest answer. We house many mages in Skyhold currently, and not all of them are trained for combat. Our healers have greatly benefited from magical assistance and the Tranquil in the library have worked wonders. There have even been some mages who have decided to pick up a sword rather than a staff...” </p><p>The Knight’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Am I to express concern over your forces being utilised in a sensible manner?” Celia and Josie caught each other’s eye and Josephine gave her a secret smile. “Healers are invaluable and in a Keep such as this, many would be needed to not only oversee the soldiers stationed here, but the civilians in the upper and lower camps. When injured, I imagine the poor souls will not care how they are helped, just that they are. As for mages picking up swords, I see no problem. A mage can hold a shield as well as any common man, given the training. His magic does not make him unable to wield a weapon outside of a staff. If anything, it’s a good thing. A staff is a large target, and no one should ever be caught without a weapon to defend themselves.” Her Ferelden accent thickened as the Knight’s brows furrowed, hand coming to rest on the pommel of her sword.  </p><p>Cassandra gave a huff of agreement. There had been an outbreak of sickness in the lower camp a few months ago. The move from Haven to Skyhold had been a difficult one and the freezing temperature of the Frostbacks had not been kind to some of the older members of the Inquisition who had escaped with them, or to those who had followed their trail once word had spread of their survival. The healers had worked miracles in combating the sickness before it claimed any lives, and the mages Fiona had drafted to help had worked with a fervour she had recognised as a desperation to prove themselves. Not all mages were fighters, some were instead gifted in the art of savings lives, rather than taking them.  </p><p>After a few tense weeks, it had been brought under control and all had calmed down again. Some who got sick had protested the mages assistance, but they had quickly been in too much pain and misery to care who helped them. It had forged many friendships and had proven the mages as an ally they could trust – not just at the senior level, but below as well.  </p><p>Cassandra and Josephine asked the knight a few more questions and with half an ear, Celia listened to the answers given. Her gaze turned towards her Spymaster who had remained silent so far. Leliana’s posture was relaxed, hands neatly tucked behind her back and hip cocked to the side, and her expression was one of passive attentiveness. There was nothing to suggest that something was wrong, but Celia could not help but notice the slight tightness around her mouth. It was a tell that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but Celia had spent too much time around the Orlesian to not notice. Leliana was typically so resolute – giving little away to express her personal thoughts, no matter the news. Celia read her Spymaster as being unsettled, but the reason as to why evaded her. Surely it could not be because of Ser Cauthrien? </p><p>Josephine and Cassandra had been the ones to prepare the candidates for consideration, but Celia doubted Leliana remained unaware as to who had been shortlisted. Some, like Rylen, had been logical assumptions. Ser Cauthrien had admittingly been a surprise.  </p><p>Celia had not expected Anora to send such a decorated veteran but had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Knight had not been at Skyhold long when she had received the odd report every so often of the work the woman had been put to. Her military officers had nothing but praise for the woman, who oversaw her work with a diligence fitting of an experienced soldier. She had earned her men’s respect, and that was not something Celia or Cassandra were prepared to dismiss.  </p><p>“Ser Cauthrien, during your tenure in the Queen’s Guard, you worked little with elves or dwarves. The Inquisition stands for all, not just humans, as I’m sure you’ve gathered from simply wandering the camp. Do you foresee this being a problem?” Cassandra’s question was polite but blunt.  </p><p>Celia turned her attention back to the table, her interest piqued once more. This was important to her – when she had been granted the title of Inquisitor, she had sworn the Inquisition would not repeat the Chantry’s mistakes by excluding other races from the table. One of the earliest decisions she and her council had enacted was to promote elven and dwarfish agents. All officers held an open-door policy – and any bigotry was to be stamped out as soon as it had been brought to their attention. Celia had hoped that a commander could be found who was not human, to provide more variety in the War Room, but Ser Cauthrien was too good of a candidate to ignore. Her desire for more co-operation could not be placed above practicality.  </p><p>The Ferelden Knight rested her hand upon her sword hilt. “Aye Seeker. Queen Anora has tried several times over the years to open positions within the Guard for those from the Alienage. Her Majesty and Elder Valendrian have had a fairly open communication with each other these past five or so years. But bigotry runs deep in Denerim and tolerance to non-humans remains an issue." Cauthrien shook her head, “I have no quarrel with those who desire to protect their homes. If an elf or dwarf can swing a sword or hold a shield wall, then I have no problem standing beside them in a fight and calling them brother. Corypheus is too big of a threat to handle by one race alone... The Blight proved there is strength in unity – it's a shame it did not last longer.”  </p><p>Leliana’s jaw clenched and her pointed chin raised higher. Celia once more looked between the Knight and her Spymaster, more convinced than ever that she was missing a piece of an invisible but convoluted puzzle.  </p><p>More minutes passed and Josie and Cassandra rounded out the remaining questions. Celia let them continue, but her mind was decided. She had heard all she needed to. She peered up at the stain glassed window behind Josephine, sun beams bursting through to make a collage of colours dance upon the table. It was nearing high noon, and she still had much to do before this evening’s departure.  </p><p>She had been making a mental inventory of things she wished to finish when Leliana finally spoke her piece.  </p><p>“What would do if you were tasked with an order you disagreed with?” </p><p>Silence hung around the table as they all looked to the Spymaster. Her slight frame was stiff and her lips tugged as if restraining a snarl. The Knight faltered for the first time, hesitance overtaking previous confidence.  </p><p>“My lady-” </p><p>“What would do if you ordered by the Inquisitor to carry out an order you knew was wrong?” She asked again.  </p><p>Cauthrien looked to Celia and the Marcher furrowed her brows. “Answer her.” She instructed quietly.  </p><p>The Knight swallowed and kept her eyes trained to the world map. Celia could see the wheels in her mind turning in her head as she struggled to find the words. Cassandra and Josie remained silent at her side, but the Inquisitor saw Josie try to catch Leliana’s eye beside her. The Spymaster ignored her.  </p><p>“I know why you’ve asked this, my lady. I would like to think that the Inquisition will never demand that I be put in such a compromising situation.” Cauthrien’s words were slow as her shoulders hunched silently.  </p><p>Leliana shook her head and stalked around the table so that she stood practically nose to nose with the other Ferelden.  </p><p>“That is not what I asked. What would you do if you were ordered to do something, by Inquisitor Trevelyan, that you found morally reprehensible?” The redhead’s eyes sparked with some inner fury Celia had rarely seen before and her voice rumbled with a threat that was almost impossible to match with her slight frame.  </p><p>“Leliana-” Cassandra tried but Leliana whipped her head around so that she faced her fellow Hand.  </p><p>“I bore witness to the scars that this woman had placed upon the Warden’s back, when she was imprisoned in Fort Drakon. I’ve seen the blind loyalty and trust this Knight once placed upon the shoulders of a man who allowed slavery to be conducted in the Alienage and who sent assassins after the only people who could end the Blight. This woman had the Hero of Ferelden tortured for trying to rescue Queen Anora. I would know who this Knight claims to serve.”  </p><p>Celia’s brows furrowed as she felt the whispers of the well swirl in her mind at the bloodlust Leliana’s voice commanded. The Marcher had not been informed of this. She had known that Cauthrien had once been the loyal solider of Loghain when he had been Regent of Ferelden during the Blight, but there had not been any whisper of the Hero having been captured before the battle of Denerim.  </p><p>Celia had heard of Fort Drakon. The oldest building in the city, and once the power symbol of the Tevinter Imperium from when they once controlled the region. It was now a garrison and prison for the city. She had heard the dark whispers of what took place within its walls, once upon a time. Lyna Mahariel may have killed the Archdemon there, but that did not erase centuries of fear and superstition. Anora had cleaned up much of her city after her coronation, but soldiers delighted in telling ghost stories around the campfire, and these stories often travelled well beyond country borders.  </p><p>Cauthrien’s hands rested once more at her hilt, and her spine seemed to want to straighten and curve simultaneously. She did not miss the shame that coloured her cheeks, nor the clenched teeth as she bit whatever it was she wanted to say back.  </p><p>“I would know whether this soldier will repeat her past mistakes.” Leliana turned back to the older woman.  </p><p>“I am not the woman you met ten years ago Sister Leliana. I am not a fool. I know my blind loyalty and trust in the former Teryn cost many people their lives and their freedom. I know that my inaction caused the former Warden to be incarcerated and...” she struggled.  </p><p>“Tortured.” Leliana finished for her, the words quiet but clear in the silence of the room.  </p><p>“Tortured. She spared me that day before the Landsmeet and I have worked ever since to regain the honour I lost because of my decisions. You asked who I serve? I serve the <em>people</em>, my lady. If I was asked by the Inquisitor to do something which I truly felt was unjust, I would refuse to do it.” Ser Cauthrien now looked to the rest of them, her voice firm as her chin raised once more.  </p><p>“I understand that you make decisions that impact more than one nation, Inquisitor. I believe in the work you are doing and if you decide to grant me the honour of being the Commander of your army, I will carry out my duties with everything that I possess. I would work with you to end the war against the Tevinter Magister and restore order to the South. But if you asked me to sully my name, I would refuse and hand over command to someone else. If you ask me to use the Inquisition to hurt the innocent, I would not hesitate to stop you. We’ve already got one mad man with a god complex. We do not need another.”  </p><p>Silence hung between them all as Celia kept her eyes locked on Cauthrien, who looked back at her with eyes wide and cheeks flushed. There was an earnestness there. A desperate desire to do good. But alongside it was the almost overwhelming fear that she would become a tool used like she had been before. Where a good woman was asked to compromise her morals so much that she became the villain she had thought she was fighting against.  </p><p>“All those in favour of granting Ser Cauthrien the position of Commander, say aye.” Celia locked her hands behind her back.  </p><p>“Aye.” Cassandra nodded to her right.  </p><p>“Indeed.” Josie followed.  </p><p>They all looked to Leliana. The slight woman racked her eyes over the Knight’s face and tilted her head to the side. Whatever she found must have satisfied her because she too eventually nodded, the motion slow and clearly with some lingering reluctance but it was firm. “If you ever make the mistakes of your former self and get the Inquisitor or anyone else in this room harmed, I will not hesitate to do what the Warden did not, am I clear?”  </p><p>“As crystal, my lady.” That seemed to satisfy the Spymaster who turned smartly on her heel and assumed her post to Celia’s left.  </p><p>“The title of Commander bares much weight and harkens back to the Templars. It was fitting for our previous Commander, who once bore allegiance to the flag and creed of the Order. However, for the slate to be clean, a new title must be given, one free from past allegiances and mistakes. Ser Cauthrien, this War Council believes you fit to carry the title of General of the Inquisition’s army, do you accept the call and the responsibilities thereof?” Celia voice echoed in the chamber and not even the cry of birds could be heard from outside.  </p><p>“I do, Inquisitor Trevelyan.” The reply was firm, as solid as stone.  </p><p>“Very well. Cassandra, if you would.” The Seeker picked up the writ from the Divine carefully, handling it with more care than one might expect from a woman of her reputation. She rounded the table so she stood beside the Knight, their impressive heights of equal match. Celia clipped her heels together as she rounded the table so she stood directly before Cauthrien, the older woman’s brows stern and lips pursed with the seriousness of this moment. Celia’s heart thudded loudly in her chest and she swallowed lowly. Placing her right hand on the Writ, she instructed Cauthrien to follow her, so the Knight’s left hand brushed her own.  </p><p>“Repeat after me. I, Ser Cauthrien, do swear that I will honour and truly serve the Inquisition in the office of General.”  </p><p>“I, Ser Cauthrien, do swear that I will honour and truly serve the Inquisition in the office of General.” </p><p>“I will do right by all people, without fear or favour, affection or ill will.” She intoned. </p><p>“I will do right by all people, without fear or favour, affection or ill will.” </p><p>“I will carry out my duties with honesty, integrity and consideration for all people.” </p><p>“I will carry out my duties with honesty, integrity and consideration for all people.” </p><p>“And if I should be ordered into disservice, I swear to bring those responsible to justice.”  </p><p>Cauthrien stilled, and Celia saw the stiffening of both Cassandra and Leliana’s shoulders out of the corner of her eye. This was not the typical oath, but Celia felt no regrets. She had heard the plea in Cauthrien’s voice earlier. This woman would not allow herself to fall into dishonour again. The price was simply too high.</p><p>Celia had no idea how this journey would end. The Well, the demons she faced, Mythal and Corypheus... all were voices tempting her to fall into darkness. Plying her with pretty promises of what they could do with the power she had at her very fingertips. She believed herself strong enough to resist their calls, but she knew trust in herself as the only safeguard was too risky. Cass was her sister, their battle bond and friendship was resolute. If the call came, Celia knew the Seeker would cut her down, but doing so would destroy her forever. Josie was a dear friend, but she was no soldier. And Leliana... </p><p>Her heart thudded against her ribcage. She could not ask Leliana to do that. She <em>would not.</em> Cauthrien held no such affection for her. If she fell, she was strong enough to make the call and capable enough to end her before Celia could hurt anyone.  </p><p>The Knight held her gaze and Celia simply steeled her shoulders. A deep respect crossed Cauthrien’s face, and the Inquisitor knew she had just won the loyalty of this soldier.  </p><p>“If I should be ordered into disservice, I swear to bring those responsible to justice.” </p><p>Finally, she closed with, “And if I should fail in my duty, may the Maker take me.” </p><p>“If I should fail in my duty, may the Maker take me.” Was repeated back to her. </p><p>Celia let a small smile cross her face, holding out her right hand to Cauthrien who clasped it in her firm grip.  </p><p>“It is settled then. Welcome to the Inquisition, General Cauthrien.” </p><hr/><p>The War Council ended soon after. Minimal updates had been reported on their current operations and with her and Leliana’s upcoming absence from the Keep, making any drastic moves was out of the question. She was very aware of the time and the clock was ticking on her having the time to grab some last-minute things before she was to depart. </p><p>“I think that will be all for now. Cauthrien, Josephine and Cassandra will show you to your new office and chambers and introduce you to your officers. Please, make yourself at home.” A few more words were exchanged before the three women exited the room, leaving herself and Leliana alone.  </p><p>She gave a shaky exhale as she resisted the urge to slump forward. It had been days since she had had to wear the mask of Inquisitor and its weight was a heavy burden on her shoulders. Cauthrien’s appointment brought a wave of relief however – that was one headache that was gone, at least. Others remained, but she was relieved that she and Leliana could depart the Keep knowing that their army was now in safe and stable hands.  </p><p>Cassandra would remain to help Cauthrien’s transition but from the determined look of the Ferelden, she didn’t expect there to be many problems, least of all issues that the Knight could not handle by herself.  </p><p>She was now free to depart Skyhold with Leliana but... </p><p>Celia studied the world map. From where she stood, everything was upside down, but she traced the path from Skyhold to Valence with her index finger, trying to imagine any last-minute scenarios or complications they had not already accommodated for. </p><p>“You should not worry yourself Celia. The road we are to travel is one well-trodden by merchants and travelling caravans. If anything was truly wrong, we would have already noticed it.” Celia let out a rueful laugh. </p><p>“I suppose I should not be surprised that you of all people can read me so easily.” Leliana smirked, sauntering her way around the table so they stood side by side.  </p><p>“No. You shouldn’t. But even if I did not know you as well as I do, it would not be hard to read your hesitation. Skyhold will still be standing when you return. I doubt Josie or Cassandra would allow anything <em>too </em>drastic to happen in the days we plan to be gone.”  </p><p>The Free Marcher nodded her head reluctantly, pushing herself up from the table so she no longer leant on it with both hands. Turning her head, she caught baby blue eyes watching her with a teasing lift of one thin red eyebrow.  </p><p>“You’re right. I just...” she trailed off.  </p><p>The redhead stepped closer so that their shoulders pressed closer together. “You are a worrier.” She said. “And that it admirable... but you need this. It isn't weakness to admit that you need to step away from something for a while.”  </p><p>Celia turned fully now, so that they stood nearly chest to chest. She looked up slightly at the Spymaster’s face, trying to ignore how much she wanted to move her left hand forward, so it rested against Leliana’s on the table. </p><p>“Isn’t it?” She whispered. “I feel like I’m running away. Like a coward or some silly little girl who’s trying to avoid her problems.”  </p><p>“You are not running.” The older woman placed both of her hands on Celia’s shoulders, her hands a solid and reassuring weight on her person. Celia was flooded with the urge to both step forward and back. “You are assisting me on an official Inquisition mission. Justinia would not have left me anything that wasn’t worth the effort of retrieving and anything we find will no doubt help our efforts elsewhere.” Leliana lowered her voice, “In truth, this is not an escape away from the Keep as it is merely a temporary excursion from it. One that just so happens to benefit <em>both </em>of us.” Leliana’s gloves were as soft as butter and Celia rested her right hand on the redhead’s wrist, feeling the gentle sloping curve of her forearm. They stood so close she could count the individual freckles on the Orlesian’s nose and spot the ever so slight age lines around her eyes and mouth.  </p><p>“You’re right.” </p><p>“I usually am.” Was the teasing response.  </p><p>With a huffed laugh they both stepped back but Celia did not miss the flicker behind blue eyes which suggested...disappointment?  </p><p>“Have you heard about the slight delay?” She asked.  </p><p>Leliana’s hands rested easily at her side, contrasting Celia who resisted the urge to wring her hands – a tick she had retained from childhood and one her mother had continually despaired over.  </p><p>“I did. There’s nothing to be done about it now. If anything, it was an unexpected benefit as I now have the time to give my orders to my agents in person.” They both headed towards the door, footsteps quiet against the hard flooring.  </p><p>“I was thinking of grabbing some things from the pantry before we head out – creature comforts I suppose. Was there anything you’d like me to grab for you?” They stopped just before the door leading out of Josephine’s office. A roaring fire danced in the hearth, the crackle and snap of wood helped make the draughty room nice and toasty. Josie was forever complaining about the cold. The smell of Antivan spices tickled her nose pleasantly.  </p><p>“Some honey would be appreciated but I require nothing else besides standard rations.” Leliana smiled at her.  </p><p>“Of course. I shall see you later then?”  </p><p>Before Celia could act the Spymaster leant up and pressed a brief kiss against a pale cheek. Flames burst alight in her stomach and she knew her eyes were bright and wide in surprise.  </p><p>“<em>À plus tard </em>Celia.” One last gentle smile was tossed her way before the other woman sauntered off, taking with her the smell of vanilla and something sweet she couldn’t identify.  </p><p>‘<em>Andraste help me.’</em>she thought before heading to her chamber to get into her armour. <em>‘That woman will be the death of me.’</em></p><hr/><p>Two saddle bags had been left at her instruction and Celia slowly paced the pantry isles as she wondered on what to take with her. There wasn’t room for much, but she thought she could fit a few extra treats.  </p><p>Grabbing a handful of items she walked back out into the hall, placing her treasures on the table so she could wrap and pack them neatly.  </p><p>The Well gathered in her mind and listening to their slight mutterings; she picked out the barest sound of bare feet on solid stone. Without turning around, she said in greeting, “Master Solas.”  </p><p>A pause, no doubt surprised that she had heard him, the elf recovered quickly, “Inquisitor. It has been a long while since we had a moment alone like this, has it not?.” He spoke cordially, the lilting tone of an accent she had never been able to place, calm and collected. </p><p>She nodded, frowning as she tucked a small square of goat’s cheese into the front pocket. “Indeed. We have been very busy these last few weeks.” </p><p>Solas came to stand beside her. “The last time we spoke would be just after your transformation, yes? And the time before that would be before the battle of Adamant?” </p><p>Celia looked up at him, eyebrows rising up her forehead in gentle shock, “Has it truly been so long?”  </p><p>Solas bowed his head, hands neatly tucked behind his back, so his spine arched slightly, exaggerating the neat lines of his shoulders. “The world stops for no one, not even the Inquisitor.” </p><p>She turned away from him once more. “True. So, what brings you to this area of the Keep? Surely not looking for a pot of tea?”  </p><p>The apostate pulled a face of disgust at the name of the beverage. “No. I heard from a passing maid that you were down here and thought I would seek you out before you depart.” </p><p>“Well, you’ve found me. How can I help you?” </p><p>“I wished to inquire how you faired after the events of the Storm Coast.” </p><p>Her mood darkened, previous feelings of levity dissipating like water in her hands. Her hands halted and she spoke lowly, “I do not wish to discuss it Solas.” </p><p>Her words did nothing to dissuade the man and he took another step closer to her. “I admit to being somewhat surprised by your decision.” </p><p>“Solas-” </p><p>“It is never easy to make such decisions. The objective must come first, but the loss of the Chargers comes as a heavy blow to you, no doubt.” </p><p>Celia does not turn to answer him, stuffing items into the saddle bags with more vigour, ignoring her previous attempt at neatness.  </p><p>“Their loss pains you.” The elf continued.  </p><p>Celia finally stopped, standing so she faced the apostate head on. His face was remarkably blank, juxtaposing his questions. No frown or crease marked his face and slate grey eyes were fixed upon her with what would be considered polite interest and concern. She looked down as she swallowed her frustration. “The Chargers were loyal men. They gave their lives for the Inquisition and I shall honour them by continuing to move forward.” </p><p>“A wise decision. The Alliance gained will do much good.”   </p><p>Celia scoffed slightly under her breath. “I half expected you to scold me for making such a deal.”  </p><p>He lowered his hands from behind his back and she detested how he stood nearly a foot taller than herself, making it so she was continually forced to look up at him. “I object to the Qun on almost every front, but that does not mean they do not possess resources and intelligence that will help you. In <em>your </em>hands, it might do some good.” </p><p>“And have you expressed these sentiments to The Iron Bull?” She asked. </p><p>“No. I cannot be disappointed in his decision to remain loyal to his people. He is Qunari. He was never capable of doing any different.” </p><p>Celia did not agree. Bull’s struggle on the Coast as he looked from her to his men with a desperation that struck her straight through the heart, remained with her still. She will never forget the resigned curl of his shoulders as they stood there, watching the last chance he had of escaping the Qun disappear forever. His recent change in disposition had only proven to her how much the Chargers had grounded him in his ‘Tal-Vashoth’ life in Orlais. She had seen little of him these last few days, but no longer did she hear the giggled whispers of the Keep’s staff gossip about their encounters with the Qunari, nor did she hear soldiers share tips they had picked up from watching Krem and Bull spar. Oh, he still bantered when approached and drank every soldier under the table, but these no longer brought a hint of delight to an unexpectedly keen eye. Now he seemed to do them because they were expected of him.  </p><p>It was only with the loss of the Chargers that Celia could see how much warmth and compassion had been extended to her and other members of the Inquisition. If she had made a different choice on that cliff face, maybe Bull would have expressed misgivings with the Qun – opinions he may have had but kept repressed because it was expected of him. Maybe he would have secretly thanked her for giving him the push to accept the persona he seemed to find so much satisfaction from. Mayb-  </p><p>She stopped those thoughts. That future was gone and the Chargers were dead. Whatever could have happened, that future which extended thousands of other possibilities, was gone forever.  </p><p>“I only caution that you remain wary of your new allies. The Qunari are not above using this alliance to spread their disease further.” </p><p>Celia raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate the warning Solas, but I believe I know more than you do when it comes to the details of my alliances. I have Leliana and Josephine ready to ensure nothing gets past them.” </p><p>He nodded, straight eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Of course, I meant no disrespect Inquisitor.” </p><p>Celia ignored the bag of nuts wrapped in a thin piece of burlap she had accidently picked up. She was allergic and Leliana only ate nuts on chocolate dessert anyway. Hating the silence that had fallen between them, she threw out over her shoulder, “How has your research been so far? Do you have sufficient resources?” </p><p>“Yes, the additional Tranquil you sent have sped things along nicely, thank you. Measuring the Veil may not be as flashy as some other areas of magic, but it remains important, nonetheless.” </p><p>“I’m glad. Let me know if you need any more assistance.” She expected him to leave her then, seeing as his initial question had been answered, but she should have known the elf would press his chance to ask her more questions. She would usually take great delight in the verbal sparring matches they would engage with, but today she found herself distinctly lacking the patience for it.   </p><p>“Of course, if I could ask you some questions about the Well of Sorrows, I could also assist Lady Morrigan’s research on the Temple of Mythal.” He barely covered his contempt for the witch. </p><p>Celia turned to him; mouth tugged down in displeasure. “We’ve talked about this. The Well tries to speak to me, but I can barely understand them. It is like an itch at the back of my mind and since I cannot speak <em>elvehn </em>I cannot translate what it is they are trying to tell me.” She raised a hand to interrupt him. “And unless you wish to inform me that you can suddenly speak ancient<em> elvehn </em>fluently, it would be pointless to try. They do not pain me and prove themselves to be only a minor inconvenience. I will not waste your talents when your other work is, as you said, more important.” </p><p>He went to persuade her again but her patience, already thin, wore out. “That is my final word on the matter. I will hear no more of this from you. I have made my decision and I expect you to respect it Solas.” </p><p>Looking like he had swallowed a lemon, the elf tilted his head in acquiescence.  </p><p>They stood in silence for several moments more, Celia continuing to check her inventory and ensure she had not left anything behind. The journey to Valence was likely to take them four or five days, depending on weather conditions. Jader was a port city, but they were likely to hold only the essentials for travel, food rations, waterskins and the like, not necessarily creature comforts to ease the journey. After several days with little to no appetite, she hoped she could tempt her stomach into accepting something more than bland rations. </p><p>“Am I to take it from your preparations that a new Commander has been chosen?”  </p><p>“Yes.” She said quietly. “Ser Cauthrien now stands as the Inquisition’s new General. She will serve with honour; I have no doubt.” </p><p>Solas made a noise in the back of his throat. “General? Once more you continue to surprise me Inquisitor.” </p><p>She rolled her shoulders and brushed some dust from her gloves on her trousers. “You must have a remarkably low opinion of me if I surprise you so readily.” </p><p>“Not low, just realistic. Most people are predictable. But not you. How many would show a disgraced soldier such courtesy and offer them so readily a chance for redemption? </p><p>She paused. “I am of the belief that we should judge people by their own actions and convictions, rather than their reputation. Ser Cauthrien has done nothing but prove herself since her assignment to the Inquisition. Her history with Teryn Loghain is obviously painful, but it taught her a vital lesson.” </p><p>“Oh?” His curiosity piqued.  </p><p>Celia brushed past him to grab a small mason jar of honey from a dusty shelf. “To never place blind trust in a man who claims to have all the answers.” </p><p>He shuffled on his feet, and she wondered whether he felt the cold of the floor at all. By the lack of any redness or swelling on his toes, she doubted it. “I look forward to seeing how she differs from our previous Commander. No doubt Corypheus will not be expecting such a shakeup of the Inquisition’s leadership so late into his game.” </p><p>“He has still not resurfaced since the Arbor Wilds.” She said, more to herself than him. The Magister’s absence was beginning to make her weary. Weeks had passed since the Temple of Mythal and still Leliana’s agents could find no sign of the creature or his dragon. Josephine’s reports had talked of some increased activity in the Emerald Graves and Emprise du Lion, but these were believed to be traders finally re-establishing their old trade routes, lost to the conflict between the Empress and the Grand-Duke and then again to the Freeman and Red Templars.   </p><p>Corypheus had not sustained any lasting injury in the Temple from what she could recall, so why was he so silent?  </p><p>“He will appear again before too long.” The elf’s voice was certain. </p><p>“Some wisdom to share on that front?” </p><p>He shrugged his thin shoulders. “He has lost his army, and he has lost Orlais. That eliminates military or political means to rebuild Tevinter. He will need to demonstrate that no one in this world can stand against his magic. The Venatori will demand a sign that their worship of him has not been misplaced. It will not be subtle.” </p><p>The noble stared mindlessly at the Inquisition’s banner which hung on one of the supporting stone pillars. The constellation Visus stared out at her, the ever-watchful eye communicating a sense of omniscience that made her shiver. “It has always been remarkable to me. That there are those will look at the world burning outside their doors and decide to take advantage of the chaos. That there are men who, even now, plot their own moves to further their petty causes.”  </p><p>Solas turned so he too gazed upon the heraldry of her cause. “You are a singular creature Inquisitor. You have waylaid all his other plans. Now, as a petulant child, Corypheus will destroy the game board rather than admit defeat. Be ready for anything. He still believes himself a god, and gods do not fall gracefully.” </p><p>“And what game do you suppose he has been playing?” She questioned mildly. </p><p>“Why, a game of chess I would imagine. The give and take of war, the slow buildup of attrition and the need to calculate three or four moves ahead.” </p><p>Celia huffed out a grim laugh, a searing hatred bubbling deep in her stomach as she turned to catch the elf’s eyes with her own. Once, that hatred would have frightened her. But now, she welcomed it and the accompanying darkness as an old friend. It’s presence rooting itself deep within her core, like roots spreading out from a tree. “I have not been playing chess Solas.”  </p><p>A look crossed his face that she could not place for a moment before it smoothed out. He opened his mouth to reply when the sound of a door opening echoed through the empty hall.  </p><p>“Inquisitor?” It was Jim, out of breath as usual.  </p><p>“Is everything ready?” </p><p>“Yes, my lady. The horses are prepped, and we await you now. Sister Leliana is on her way.” </p><p>“Thank you, Jim. That will be all.” With a solute and sharp turn on his heels, the man rushed away to his next duty.  </p><p>“It appears time has run out. I wish you well on your journey and hope you and the Spymaster find whatever it is you seek.” Solas nodded to her.  </p><p>“Thank you. I shall be back in two weeks, all things willing. Let us hope we have fair weather and calm seas.”  </p><p>She slung the two saddle bags over her shoulder, balancing their weight against her slight frame. The older man walked away from her, and she watched him silently make his way back up the stairs and into the Keep proper. Even with her enhanced hearing, she could barely hear the pad of his feet on the floor.  </p><p>Letting out a sigh, she hefted the bags up again and headed towards the stables. The kitchens were almost uncomfortably hot and richly smelt of beef – the result of the main meal served a few hours earlier. The ovens were still lit, bread and other baked goods being cooked for the next day's lunch. With the number of people housed not just in the Keep, but in the upper and lower camps located further down the mountainside, the ovens never truly stopped burning.  </p><p>She was just about to grab an apple from one of the side tables when she looked up to find herself face to face with a white face.  </p><p>“Oh!” </p><p>Marguerite looked as if she had seen a ghost, ashen faced and eyes darkened with bags. Her usual milkmaid braids were coming untucked, chestnut hair greasy and decidedly unkept.  </p><p>They stared at each other for a second, not knowing how to react to the other.  </p><p>“Your Worship!” The maid finally spluttered out, voice hoarse as if from disuse.  </p><p>“Marguerite you know you don’t have to call me that-” </p><p>“Your Worship.” The voice cooled.  </p><p>Celia watched as indelicate hands twisted together in the apron of her dress, and scuffed shoes restlessly shuffled on the marked floor. Dressed in her own decorated armoured leathers, and with a deep green paludamentum over one shoulder, Celia had never felt their different stations so keenly. She detested how polished she looked in comparison to the older woman.  </p><p>Since she had met Marguerite, she had treated her as closely as an equal as she could, having her and the other workers call her by her name and encouraging them to tell her if they had any problems. Marguerite had taken to her easily, unlike some of the older ladies who had previously served noble women who did not take so kindly to such informality between staff and themselves.  </p><p>“How can I be of assistance, my lady? Do you require a tray to be made separately for you?”  </p><p>All Celia could do was mutely shake her head. She had not seen the older woman since before her departure for the Storm Coast. The yellow roses that had been in her quarters had been the last delivery of flowers she had received. They had wilted soon after, but she had not been able to bring herself to throw them away and replace them. Their sickly sweet smell gave her headaches but still she kept them in the vase on her desk.  </p><p>Marguerite had still not looked her in the eye, her focus just over Celia’s shoulder. It was a trick that was as old as time and yet the avoidance made her want to weep. A burning itch began behind her eyes and she rockily inhaled a deep breath.  </p><p>“No, that won’t be necessary.” She murmured quietly. “I am departing Skyhold this evening.”  </p><p>The brunette’s cheeks hollowed as she bit the inside of her cheek, making her gaunt cheeks sharper in the light of the oven fires.  </p><p>“Of course, Your Worship. I shall let Cook know.” They both continued to stand there, the saddle bags a grounding weight against her shoulder and Celia found her feet stuck to the floor, unable to move no matter how much she tried to command her body to obey.  </p><p>“How- How have you been?” As soon as the question left her lips she wanted to slap herself across the face. Of all the insensitive and ridiculous things she could have said! </p><p>Marguerite’s face flushed and her lips pursed. The flared nostrils and sudden tight grip she had of her apron told Celia exactly what the woman thought of that question. “I have been well, Inquisitor.” </p><p>It was a blatant lie, but Celia was not brave enough to question it.  </p><p>A flash of yellow caught her eye and she focused on Marguerite’s calloused hands. There, twisted under restless fingers, was the unmistakable figure of a nug that mirrored the one safely tucked away in her own chambers. It was missing a yellow wing, and the black thread used to communicate eyes was threadbare, as if someone had picked at it mindlessly.  </p><p>The blonde closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache that sat on her chest. Shoving aside the feeling of shame that hit her like a sledgehammer.  </p><p>Seeing that Celia was going to offer nothing more, the maid curtly nodded. “If that will be all Inquisitor, I have duties to attend to.” </p><p>Coughing lowly to clear the lump at the back of her throat, Celia quickly nodded, stepping aside so the woman could pass her to enter into the Keep. “Of course. I shall let you get on with things.” The brunette brushed past her, the full layers of her quilted petticoats whipping past her legs.  </p><p>Unable to help herself she called out, “Marguerite!” The older woman stopped dead in the doorway. “You should know... Krem-” the maid flinched, “Krem told me of you and him. He... I did not know Krem for very long, but I had never seen him so enamoured with anything as he looked when he told me of you.” </p><p>Silence was her answer. </p><p>“I’m <em> so  </em>sorry. I never thought it would end like it did.” Celia whispered, her empty hand resting against her stomach.  </p><p>Brown eyes held her crystal blue and green ones and for a second, she caught a brief glimpse at the depth of sorrow this woman felt over her loss. It was enough to make her flinch, her back hitting the table, causing the cutlery on it to wobble.  </p><p>“I loved him.” Marguerite whispered, lips trembling as she stuttered a breath.  </p><p>“I know.” She responded.  </p><p>“He promised me he would show me Val Royeaux... I’ve never been. We were gonna walk by the waterfront and he said he would buy me some of those frilly cakes that everyone always goes on about.” </p><p>Celia’s throat closed and a tight pressure settled on her chest.  </p><p>“I was going to tell him I loved him. He was always so shy when it came to telling me how he felt. But now he’s<em>gone.</em> He’ll never know.” Watery brown eyes met hers. “Because <em>you </em>let him die.” </p><p>Air quickly rushed from her lungs as the words buried themselves under her skin. Her heart felt battered, bruised and bloody from the guilt that tore up her insides and racked their nails down her back. It was like drowning, gasping for relief from what she had done but suffocating on the cold reality that there was no escaping this. She had made her choice. The dead were gone and could not return to this world. Krem, charming, funny and loyal Krem was now ashes, alongside his fellow mercenaries.  </p><p>She may have been denied the privilege of attending their funeral, but she knew that none of them were to be buried. She had offered the garden for a small shrine for Dalish, knowing that the elven clans did not cremate their dead, but Bull refused. They were all his men. They would all want to be together.  </p><p>Tears slipped down her cheek and she wiped them away distractedly. Marguerite’s face did not soften from her slip of emotion. If anything, her lips thinned further. </p><p>“You and he were friends. He told me that ya would sometimes get a drink with him and the boys at the tavern. He came in a few weeks ago, joking about how he would one day best ya in a duel, after he watched you and the Seeker spar. You <em>knew </em>him but tha’ wasn’t enough.”  </p><p>Celia shook her head, trying to tame the pleading in her voice as she stepped forward, right hand clutching the saddle bugs slung over her shoulder. “I had to put my friendship with him aside, Marguerite. Our mission was too important. We were trying to save hundreds, if not <em>thousands </em>of lives.” </p><p>The maid took a step backwards, away from her. “By sacrificing them. Ya know, I once thought that you were the best thing to happen to the South since the Warden. You always took the time to say hello. You let me call you by your name. You would ask about me sister and me mother. You made me think you cared. But ya don’t. We’re all just pieces of meat to ya. To kill and dice up however it suits ya best.” </p><p>“Marguerite-” </p><p>“Goodbye, Inquisitor. If you’ll excuse me, I have duties to see to.” The older woman spun around and scurried off out the door and away from her.  </p><p>Celia sniffled loudly, finally dropping the saddle bags and slumping back against the table, using its solid oak frame to keep her standing. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and her shoulders shook as more tears traitorously slipped down her cheeks.  </p><p><em> ‘</em>Krem <em> ... I’m so sorry.’ </em>She thought.  </p><p>Why had she thought the response would be any different? For days she had spun her self-loathing into a tight ball that sat like a rock in her stomach. She thought being denied the chance to officially say goodbye to her friends would hurt the most but now she knew better. The look of absolute <em>loathing </em>that had swirled in Marguerite’s eyes was infinitely worse.  </p><p>She was the reason her friends were dead. She was the one who had given Bull the order to not call a retreat. She was the one who had decided that the lives of countless unknown people were worth the cost of the Chargers. She hated herself and the choice she had made... but what caused her to simmer was the fact that she knew if she had to make the choice again... she would not choose any different.  </p><p>“You hurt for them. Another of many you could not save. The pain tangles in a knot and twists you tighter. ‘I’m so sorry Bull.’” She looked up to find Cole sat cross legged on the table, his familiar patchwork clothing becoming sullied with the left-over flour and egg scattered on the countertop. His large, almost impossibly blue eyes gazed at her with a sadness and understanding that made her breath catch in her throat.  </p><p>“Cole.” She croaked, standing from her hunched over position.  </p><p>“You hurt with a pain that is familiar, but the source is new and raw and ragged.” Pale white fingertips fiddled with one of the mason jars. “You flee to escape the fight, but the fight is forever.”  </p><p>“Cole, I don’t understand.” </p><p>“I want to help but your hurts are so many and so heavy. Tugging free one will create tangles somewhere else. How can I help you?” The boy’s earnestness was obvious, he slipped from the table and stood directly before her.  </p><p>She let a sad smile cross her face and brushed a piece of flour from his cheek. “Some hurts cannot be helped Cole.” She brushed the wet trace of tears from her cheeks. </p><p>He frowned. “But then, how can I help you feel better?”  </p><p>“You already have.” She delicately swiped a piece of his hair away from his eyes, the low brim of his wide, floppy hat almost comically large against his slight frame. </p><p>“Inquisitor finds a companion in Compassion. Gently you walk into darkness again and again but always look to find the follower, afraid to let them fall with you. Thank you.” He breathed, a smile crossing his face which made his young self more apparent. But his smile quickly faded. “But... how can I help you heal your hurts?” </p><p>She sighed, feeling twice her age. “What I feel right now Cole is necessary.” No matter how much she wished the<em>ache </em>would go away. </p><p>“But it hurts you!” </p><p>“It does.” She nodded. “But if it didn’t, then I would be free to abuse my power. I could become blind to the cost of what we’re doing.” </p><p>“I could help you forget? It isn't as easy now that I’m more <em>here </em>than before, but I could try?” He proposed. </p><p>She shook her head gently. “No sweetheart. Remembering is the only way to learn and know.” </p><p>“Remembering hurts.” He said.  </p><p>“It has to.” She replied.  </p><p>She sat beside him, now used to the lack of heat Cole’s body did not give off. He may have become more boy than spirit, but he would always be different. Always marked by something <em>more. </em>Something genuine, but decidedly not human. Before, that had unnerved her. She saw his pale face and bleach blonde hair as something to fear. Like some ghost or phantom from a scary story. He was different and spoke her fears so clearly that she could not escape their power. Now, she found him to be a deep source of comfort.  </p><p>Cole was not human, and he did not need to be. He was compassion personified, seeking hurts and making them better. His help may not be typical, but it was<em>real.</em>That was enough for her. His words sometimes were the only way she could make out what it was she <em>did </em>feel.  </p><p>“Celia?” </p><p>She turned to him.  </p><p>“You wonder if they want you to feel guilty. Whether they hated you at the end, but they didn’t.”  </p><p>She furrowed her brows. “You know what the Chargers were thinking when... when they died?” </p><p>“Copper on the lips. Dalish lies dead-eyed beside me. He’ll come, he’ll call, he won’t leave us. She won’t let us die. Horns pointing up.”  </p><p>“Oh.” She whimpered; eyes clenched shut as another tear fell.  </p><p>He kicked himself off the table, so he stood by her legs. “No! That made it worse! I tugged the knot and tore it.” Cole’s voice was heavy with his anxiety as his hands twisted together, the fingerless gloves fraying more from the pressure. His body positively vibrated as he itched to do something to help her. Seeing his agony, she clutched both of his hands in her own gloved ones and squeezed reassuringly.  </p><p>“Cole, it’s alright.” Her voice was quiet, but she tried to let him feel her sincerity. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ll be fine. I simply need more time.” </p><p>“She makes you feel better. The Left Hand blooms on a hope and is beginning to remember how to sing again. Duty, darkness and desperation clinging to light in a new woman, different than before, but more real.”  </p><p>A warmth spread through her chest and a blush kissed her cheeks. It was fruitless to hide anything from Cole so she supposed she should not have been surprised that her increasing infatuation with the Spymaster was voiced by him. To have it spoken aloud made it more real in a way. The longing looks, the desire to speak to her... to touch her and <em>be </em>touched by her. She was becoming more entranced every day and Leliana, instead of pushing her away, seemed to draw her in closer. The older woman now managed to always catch her eye, stepping closer than what might be considered appropriate and sending a teasing smile when her proximity caused Celia to stutter, flustered.  </p><p>Her company was what had got her through the last week. She had been tempted to just hide away in her quarters, away from the judgement and uncomfortable looks she now got from some of the Inquisition’s soldiers. The Chargers had been well loved and their deaths had hit hard in the Keep. Sera’s thoughts were not just her own.  </p><p>Only Celia and her advisors truly understood the benefits that their new alliance would get them. The Ben-Hassrath reports were beginning to arrive and already they had done good in the city of Denerim; saving Anora’s life from a sloppy assassination attempt and paving the way for agents to follow the Venatori suspected of orchestrating the attack. Even now, agents were riding to South Reach. They should reach the area within the week and planned to scout out the trail for several days before reporting back on their findings.  </p><p>The benefits of their alliance were beginning to be realised but that did not take away from the guilt she carried over how it became possible. Harding had reported on the successful retrieval and destruction of the red lyrium from the Storm Coast and the Blades of Hessarian had notified her of the elimination of the Venatori. All tied up neatly in a bow, but the messy chaos of her emotions could not be dealt with so swiftly.  </p><p>Bull faced the report with his newfound standard, a blank stare that communicated nothing and revealed little of what was going through his head. Cass and Dorian were more sensitive, relieved that the business was dealt with but regretful that she had been made to make the decision in the first place. She knew they did not necessarily <em>agree </em>with her decision. Dorian’s distaste for the Qun was apparent from his tension with Gatt and Cass was loath to let the Chargers perish over something so immaterial. But they respected her decision and had not voiced their reticence.  </p><p>Leliana had been different. Neither approval nor disapproval crossed her face, simply an acceptance of the decision made. The reports would benefit her most, after all. She had worked with many spies in her time as Left Hand to the Divine, but never had she seen Ben-Hassrath operations so closely. They were an efficient machine, masters of infiltration and sabotage. Leliana had told her one evening that she had rarely seen such a large group so co-ordinated.  </p><p>She witnessed Celia’s burden over the lives spent and<em> understood. </em>Many lives had been cut short on the Spymaster’s orders and more still rested on her shoulders as Inquisition agents reported back and awaited her commands. She was the unseen Commander, wielding her hidden army across the continent to watch, wait and listen for hints of violence. She was incredible and she bore it all with a weight Celia was beginning to buckle under. </p><p>Dorian was her dearest friend, Cass her sister in all but blood but <em>Leliana</em>... Leliana saw her and knew the cost she would carry for the rest of her life. And accepted that. Accepted her.  </p><p>“She does.” She finally said. “She... makes me happy.”  </p><p>Cole smiled at that, and she could not help but let a small one mirror back at him. His face was usually so somber, no doubt hearing all the hurts people carried and waiting for the next person he could help. A smile was rare, but it completely transformed his face.  </p><p>Conscious that she was likely running late, she reached down and slung the saddle bags over her right shoulder. “I have to go, but Cole?” </p><p>He looked at her.  </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>“I helped?” He asked.  </p><p>“You helped.” she said.  </p><p>His smile widened.  </p><p>“You’ve helped me but there are no doubt others who need you more than I do. And if I could ask you something… could you help Marguerite?” </p><p>His smile dimmed, and his hat covered his eyes from her. “She wishes she didn’t mean it.”  </p><p>“I know.” With a last brush of her hands over her armour, she let her mask fall into place as she walked out the door, leaving the warmth and smell of the kitchens behind and headed out into the brisk evening air.  </p><p>The bailey was busier than normal, several stable-hands and agents rushing back and forth making sure everything was ready. Several onlookers stood by the well and merchants used the opportunity to call out their wares to the curious. There was a nip in the air, autumn well and truly underway; it would not be long before the first snows hit. She prayed that the rain would not cause any mud slides. There were many advantages to living in a Keep secluded in the Frostbacks, but ease of access was not one of them.  </p><p>A chilly breeze rustled the trees and a flock of ravens circled above, their cries dulled out by the activity below them. She took a deep breath, the familiar scent of hay, horses and mountain air settling in her lungs.  </p><p>“Inquisitor!” Dennett called, leading Almira towards her. Her mare was groomed, mane neatly braided and coat gleaming. She tossed her head at the sight of her mistress and Celia ran a hand over her strong neck in greeting, sneakily feeding her a sugar cube she’d pilfered from the kitchen.  </p><p>“Hello Almira.” She cooed, firmly pressing a kiss to the mare’s fine nose.  </p><p>“Everything is set, Your Worship. All horses are saddled with five day's worth of rations, which should be more than enough to get you to Jader.” </p><p>She turned to the dark-skinned man, nodding her thanks. “Excellent. Thank you, Dennett. I heard you have a new addition to the stables? Are mare and foal in good health?” She slung the saddle bags over Almira’s back, buckling them to her saddle and tugging to make sure they were secured.  </p><p>The older Ferelden handed her the reins. “Ah, they’re fine. It was hard on the ol’ girl but she’s made of sturdy stuff.” </p><p>She turned to him, barely reaching past his shoulder. “I’m relieved. Colt or filly?” </p><p>“A colt. Takes after his sire, so he should be a fine steed in a few years.” She smiled at him. Dennett was a gruff man, one sparse of words and approval, but he took his job seriously and she had no doubt he would remain with the horses through the coming night to make sure there were no complications.  </p><p>“I shall have to come visit them when I return.” A dwarf hurried past her, and she glanced around. “Has the Spymaster arrived yet?”  </p><p>Dennett gestured towards the main gate where a company of six agents, armoured in the Inquisition’s standard red and charcoal uniform, sat mounted. “She’s ready for you Inquisitor. Just giving out her last orders by the looks of things. Best be on your way though. We won't have the light for much longer and travelling these mountains in the dark ain’t the best for the horses.” </p><p>She gave him one last nod and lead Almira towards the main gate. She did not recognise the agents who were to be their protection detail, but she didn’t truly expect to. Cassandra had insisted on their presence and there was strength in travelling in numbers. Leliana and herself were more than capable of handling common bandits, but Venatori were everywhere. They would only be accompanying them to Jader anyway. Celia and the Spymaster would make their way to Valence on their own from there. Celia had grumbled about the added protection but one stern glance from Cass had been enough to silence her.  </p><p>It seems she was taking her role as sister very seriously. Celia ignored how that knowledge pulled at her heartstrings.  </p><p>She lead Almira towards the front of the line and finally caught sight of Leliana. Her back was facing Celia as she exchanged some final words with Harding. Lace gave her a smile as she walked off and finally the redhead turned towards her.  </p><p>Celia’s breath caught in her throat as piercing baby blue eyes met hers. Red hair was kept hidden under her signature hood and her purple and leather armour was covered by a thick woollen cloak. Celia spotted the glint of two daggers tucked into leather boots but was under no illusion that those were the only weapons on her person. If she didn’t know better, she would never have guessed that Leliana was the Inquisition’s Spymaster – she looked like a noble or a wealthy merchant. The deception was subtle but impressive.  </p><p>Leliana’s mouth tugged in a smile before it fell, and her eyebrows furrowed as she caught sight of her face. The bard moved forward, hand coming up to brush against her cheek slightly. “You’ve been crying?” She said lowly.  </p><p>Her cheeks must still be flushed, and her eyes were no doubt housing a ring of red. “I’m fine.” She said quietly, bringing her hand to rest against Leliana’s on her cheek. In truth, the emotional whiplash was becoming too much for her and she felt like she was going to collapse.  </p><p>“Celia-”  </p><p>“Please,” she whispered, exhaustion colouring her voice. “Let’s just go.”  </p><p>They looked at each other and Celia could picture the questions racing through the bard’s pretty head. She thought the older woman would continue to needle but sighed in relief that wasn’t the case. Leliana cast one last look down her frame, missing (or ignoring) the way the Inquisitor shivered from the intense study.  </p><p>“<em>D’accord</em><em>. </em> Let us depart before we lose all the light.” </p><p>They turned towards their mounts and Celia deftly lifted herself up, swinging her right leg over the saddle in a move she had done a thousand times before. Quickly settling in the saddle, she turned towards the Left Hand. Her stallion was slightly taller than Almira, a handsome dark bay Trakehner if she was not mistaken, with black socks and a long midnight mane flying free. She had never seen Leliana in the saddle before and was impressed at how quickly she found her seat. There was no awkwardness or clunky manoeuvring with her thighs, no pulling at the reins. Strong leg muscles tensed and controlled the stallion who danced slightly beneath her, excited to be free and stretch his legs.  </p><p>Perhaps catching her appreciating eye Leliana patted the stallion's smooth crested neck. “This is Freyan.”  </p><p>“He’s beautiful.” </p><p>Leliana laughed lightly, “<em>Oui, </em>he is but he’s a prickly one. He should calm once we get moving.” </p><p>“No pricklier than his owner, I’m sure.” Celia wasn’t sure why she tossed the words back.  </p><p>Leliana’s pink lips pulled into a smirk, eyes sparkling with amusement. “What can I say? We both like being in control.” Celia could have sworn she saw blue eyes cast themselves over her frame and was halfway to a stammered reply when a call behind her made her twist smoothly in the saddle.  </p><p>Hurrying down the steps was Cassandra and Dorian. They made their way to her side, and standing no higher than her knee. </p><p>“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Dorian said with a wounded expression. Cassandra crossed her arms, strong shoulders pulled back.  </p><p>“Of course not Dori-” She began, despite knowing that that was exactly what she had been planning to do.  </p><p>“Because as your dearest and most loyal friend I would have never recovered from such a slight.” Cassandra scoffed at Dorian’s words and stepped forward, using her shoulder to gently shove him aside, ignoring his squawk of indignation.  </p><p>“I wish you well on your journey Inquisitor. Are you sure you do not wish me to accompany you?” Cassandra hesitated before she finally let her hand rest on her knee.  </p><p>“No, it’s alright Cass. You’re needed here, you’re one of the only ones I can trust to make sure Skyhold will still be standing by the time we return.” Celia smiled, patting Cass’ hand.  </p><p>The Seeker made a noise in the back of her throat whilst Dorian let out a huff. “True. Although with Lady Montilyet and Ser Cauthrien around we might no longer need to worry about sealing down the hatches.” Celia let out a surprised laugh. She pushed back some fly away hairs which had come loose from her braid.  </p><p>“Very true. But you forget dear Seeker, that a certain dwarf is still here and if rumours are correct, he has a hankering for another game of Wicked Grace. This time with the visiting dignitaries from Val Chevin.”  </p><p>The Nevarran let out a deeper sound of disgust and Celia giggled. Seriousness returned to the warrior’s face and she squeezed her knee.  </p><p>“Celia... please be careful.” </p><p>A stone seemed to have been lodged in her throat, so the Inquisitor simply nodded.  </p><p>“I hope you find what you’re looking for and that this short trip away will bring you some measure of peace.” Honey brown eyes were uncharacteristically soft, the jagged edges of her scar muted in the fading daylight and the severe angles of her face less dangerous with obvious care and concern.  </p><p>Inquisitor and Seeker shared one last smile before Cassandra stepped back, this time turning towards her fellow Hand.  </p><p>“Maker keep you, Leliana.” The same concern lingered in her voice. The redhead nodded, eyes serious as she tightened her grip on the reins.  </p><p>“Andraste guide your path, Cassandra. I shall keep her safe until our return.” </p><p>Dorian stepped back towards her, emerald silks sparkling in the setting sun. “Please my friend, be safe. I need you to stick around a little while longer if I’m to stay in this backwater country.”   </p><p>Overcome, Celia leant down to the right, using her strong left calf and thigh muscles to keep herself seated, and kissed the mage’s tan cheek. Dorian’s calm façade broke as he let out a flustered laugh as she pulled herself back upright.  </p><p>“<em>Vitae </em><em>benefaria </em>Dorian.” She said.  </p><p>Dark eyes lined with kohl widened in happy surprise. “You’ve been practicing.” He accused, voice playful.  </p><p>She shrugged one shoulder, “Well... perhaps a little.”  </p><p>The mage’s moustache twitched, restraining a smile, but he too stepped back so he stood side by side with the Seeker.  </p><p>Leliana steered Freyan so they sat side by side and the loitering agents quickly ordered themselves into formation, one archer stationed at the back and another at the front, with the rest quickly making sure all weapons were secured.   </p><p>“I shall see you all soon. Be well my friends.”  </p><p>With one last look and sharing a quick nod with Leliana, Celia nudged Almira forward and they smoothly trotted out of the gate, a small cloud of dirt kicked up in the wake. A raven's caw echoed in the valley and Celia took one final look at the Keep, candlelight's illuminating the windows, before she turned back around and continued on, Leliana a silent reassurance by her side.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translation:<br/>D’accord - OK<br/>À plus tard – until later<br/>Vitae benefaria - A respectful goodbye </p><p>In case anyone was curious, I am using https://bendingwind.bitbucket.io/ for scale information (slightly larger map scale) to calculate distance. From what I could tell, it should take 3 days to get to Valence, 3 days back (if all goes smoothly, likely to take longer because of mountainous terrain and breaks for watering the horses etc.) So it's more like 4 days to get to Valence and 4 days back. </p><p>Thank you all for reading this update! Feel free to let me know what you think - as usual, constructive feedback is always welcome, as is just general thoughts and opinions.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Constructive feedback is always appreciated :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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